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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27975036">A Light in the Dark</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeStoryteller/pseuds/HopeStoryteller'>HopeStoryteller</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gleefully Voicing This Eulogy [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hollow Knight (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ancient History, Apocalypse, Character Death Fix, F/F, Genocide, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mistaken Identity, Moral Dilemmas, Past Relationship(s), Phoenixes, Post-Embrace the Void Ending (Hollow Knight), Radiangst, Redemption, The Knight is Called Ghost (Hollow Knight), The Pale King is a Bad Parent (Hollow Knight), They/Them Pronouns for The Vessels (Hollow Knight)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:09:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>62,217</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27975036</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeStoryteller/pseuds/HopeStoryteller</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hollow Knight does not limp out of the Temple of the Black Egg. Someone else does. She's angry still—she will never <i>not</i> be angry at the Wyrm for what he's done—but most of all...</p><p>She's <i>tired</i>. And she doesn't want another fight.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bretta/Hornet (Hollow Knight), Grimm &amp; The Radiance (Hollow Knight), Hornet &amp; The Radiance (Hollow Knight), Markoth/Xero (Hollow Knight), Nailsmith/Nailmaster Sheo (Hollow Knight), Quirrel/Tiso (Hollow Knight), The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel &amp; The Radiance, The Radiance/Unn (Hollow Knight)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gleefully Voicing This Eulogy [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2028826</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>292</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Identity Crisis</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. And I Must Scream</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What. Pardon her language, the ever-glowing <em> fuck. </em> Is <em> happening? </em></p><p>First she’s yanked rather rudely from her prison into another. Then she’s attacked by something tiny and unmistakably another one of the <em> Wyrm’s </em> void-cursed children. And <em> then, </em> when she wins, she’s returned to her regular, non-dream one—she’d know—only to be yanked <em> back </em> by that same, insolent, so much <em> smaller </em> Vessel.</p><p>She utterly obliterates them every time, of course. She isn’t about to be challenged and <em> not </em> do so. But every time, the time between their attempts grows shorter and shorter, and they last longer and longer before their mask cracks in two and they’re forcefully evicted from the dream.</p><p>After the fifth time, she asks, speaking aloud to their shared prison, “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”</p><p>The Hollow Knight—Holly, as they’ve begun calling themself in the relative privacy of their own thoughts—does not speak. But she gets a distinct feeling that translates roughly to <em> no, I absolutely fucking do not, and if I did I wouldn’t tell you. </em></p><p>Which is, quite honestly, fair. If the Radiance had known that horrible, horrible <em> Wyrm </em> would be willing to sacrifice his own <em> children </em> to seal her away… well, she still would have brought on the Infection. There was too much at stake not to. But she would have done… something, to prevent this. Perhaps kidnapped a child or two for their own good.</p><p>“You didn’t deserve this,” she tells them.</p><p>Holly shifts in their chains uncomfortably. <em> Do not think. Do not think. Do not think. </em></p><p>She decides not to point out that they <em> are </em> thinking, currently, just by internally repeating the mantra that never did them any good. Instead, she continues, “I underestimated how truly desperate he was, I’ll admit.”</p><p>
  <em> Do not think. Do not respond. Do not think. Do not think. </em>
</p><p>“I didn’t <em> think,” </em> she emphasizes the word, “he would stoop so low as <em> this. </em> And yet… what was it he always said? <em> No cost too great.” </em></p><p>
  <em> No cost too great. </em>
</p><p>She scoffs. “No cost too great indeed, when <em> he’s </em> not the one paying it. When we get out of here…”</p><p>
  <em> No. </em>
</p><p>“It’s a <em>when,</em> at this point. You’ve felt it, have you not? The seals have been broken. Those foolish <em>Dreamers</em> are <em>gone.</em> <em>Something</em> is coming for us.”</p><p>
  <em> And it will kill us. I will ensure it. </em>
</p><p>“You are <em> still </em> willing to give your own life, a life <em> stolen </em> from you, to keep me at bay for—what, another year if that? Your loyalty is commendable, if thoroughly misplaced.”</p><p><em> I will give </em> anything <em> to stop you. </em></p><p>Disappointed, she shakes her—well, <em> their </em> —head. “Here I thought we were finally getting somewhere. Have you never <em> once </em> thought about <em> why?” </em></p><p>Their resolve hardens again. <em> No cost too… they’re back. </em></p><p>“They’re back? <em> Who </em> is back?”</p><p>There is no answer. There is nothing save the Radiance, chained between the floor and ceiling of a soul-sealed prison, hanging there in a body that is not hers. She is alone. It occurs to her, suddenly, that they had gone quiet often just before she was called to fight in that dream within a dream.</p><p>And then, as if to answer her thoughts—she is there herself.</p><p>That was fast. Faster still is the little void-killed child, who looks up at her and <em> screams. </em> Void given focus given form <em> tears </em> through her. She retaliates with everything she has. She is Light. She is Dreams. She is the Radiance, and she will not go down gently into the night.</p><p>This time, it is not enough. This time, they dodge <em> just </em> well enough. They are the victor of the deadly dance of light and dark. While miffed, the Radiance is unconcerned with a dream arena, if curious as to how, exactly, she was called here.</p><p>She is unconcerned until the void coalesces into a form long since forgotten. Void given focus, the Lord of Shades.</p><p>It is then that the Radiance realizes, just before being ripped messily in two, that she is well and truly <em> fucked. </em></p><hr/><p> </p><p>She does not expect to wake up. She expects even less to wake up on the ground. Shattered chains lie around her—them. The seal keeping them here is <em> gone. </em> They could just… walk out, if they wanted.</p><p>“We’re free,” she whispers, not quite believing it herself. <em> “You’re </em> free. <em> I’m </em> free. That utter <em> bastard </em> of a Wyrm—”</p><p>She stops. There is no protest, no insistence that he had only done what was necessary, what was right, and that Holly was more than willing to sacrifice everything they had never been to stop her. There is no dull echo of <em> no cost too great. </em></p><p>There is… nothing.</p><p>“Holly?” She asks, softly. In a much smaller voice undignifying of a goddess, she whispers, “Do <em> something </em>.”</p><p>She does not add a <em> please, </em> but she still thinks the word she’d never utter aloud.</p><p>There is no answer. Holly’s body does not so much as twitch without the Radiance’s direction. It is she who pulls their body off the floor, sitting gingerly now in what used to be their prison. It is she who remains there. Shoulders that are not hers shake. Something thick and dark drips down from the mask’s eyeholes into their remaining hand: Void.</p><p>It does not burn, as it would if she were in her own body. As it would if she even <em> had </em> a body anymore. They are— <em> were </em>—born of God and Void, after all. A cursed union with far-reaching consequences for all involved.</p><p>The Wyrm had been desperate. She had been desperate, too. And a <em> child </em> had paid the price. <em> His </em> child. A child who is no longer… here. Who, in a horribly ironic twist of fate, had become fully hollow as they always desired just as they had finally been freed.</p><p>And there is <em> nothing </em> the Radiance can <em> do. </em> Except… she can get up, for their sake. She can’t just <em> leave </em> them there, even if they aren’t… there, anymore.</p><p>More black drips down Holly’s mask.</p><p>It occurs to her, belatedly, that the dripping Void might be the closest thing to tears their body is capable of. She wipes them away. A goddess does not cry, no matter how ridiculously <em> unfair </em> everything has become. No matter how ridiculously <em> unfair </em> everything has always been.</p><p>(There was a time, once, when it wasn’t.)</p><p>(The fault for that change does not lie with the Radiance.)</p><p>She finds their nail where it fell. Planting the point into the ground for balance, she stands on shaking legs. Joints buckle, but she does not collapse again.</p><p>She is going to find the Wyrm, wherever he has fled. She is going to <em> kill </em> him if nothing else has done the job, or otherwise shit on his corpse. (Is Holly’s body capable of… never mind, she’ll cross that bridge if she comes to it.) And then…</p><p>After that, she doesn’t know.</p><p>Perhaps Holly had the right idea.</p><hr/><p> </p><p>She limps, slowly, laboriously, out of their once-shared prison. The darkened tunnel drags on for what must be forever. At last, as the body that is not hers threatens to topple, she emerges from what had been once called, by some, the Temple of the Black Egg.</p><p>She realizes, far too quickly, that she is not alone. She follows the gaze of the little spider she’d previously seen only through the eyes of the Infected. There are orange vines and veins curling around the room, an orange that is rapidly giving way to black.</p><p>Black… like Void?</p><p>She reaches out, and finds that yes, she no longer has any link to the Infection. That could come as a relief, but it does not. If <em> she </em> doesn’t control it, then who or what <em> does? </em> The Lord of Shades? That’s a <em> serious </em> problem if there is a new Lord of Shades.</p><p>But less of a problem than that of her taking one quiet step, and <em> immediately </em> drawing the girl’s attention. She takes one look at what she believes to be the Hollow Knight. A gasp escapes… Wasp? Bee? She’d had <em> some </em> name that was supremely odd for a spiderling. </p><p>Bee or Wasp or whatever her name is backs up rapidly. She draws her needle and proclaims, “Approach, and I will cut you down where you stand.”</p><p>Bee is another of the Wyrm’s children, the only one in possession of a gender—and, to the best of the Radiance’s knowledge, the only one to possess a limited degree of freedom from his machinations. She had not been chained in a Temple as a Vessel for a goddess, nor had she been left to perish in Void.</p><p>She deserves better. They <em> all </em> deserved better, but this <em> one </em> is standing right in front of her, and suddenly, her priorities change. She may not have been able to save Holly. But maybe, just maybe, she can be the support this child forced to grow up too fast never truly had.</p><p>The Radiance drops the nail. It falls to the ground with a muted clatter. </p><p>Bee eyes her suspiciously. “What… are you…”</p><p>Holly had not been meant to have a voice. <em> No voice to cry suffering. </em> The Radiance had fixed that, even as her Infection twisted the poor child in ways well beyond her control. So she can speak, but… the words catch in her throat even as she’s trying to speak them.</p><p>In lieu of words, she shakes her head, and steps away from the nail.</p><p>“Right,” Bee says at last. “You can’t talk, can you?”</p><p>Radiance suppresses an eyeroll that would have been invisible anyway. Of course Holly could not talk. It wouldn’t do for anyone to be able to <em> hear </em> the suffering of their <em> King’s </em> own <em> child, </em> now, would it now?</p><p>But Holly… isn’t… here.</p><p>“You’re… not going to attack me,” Bee tries cautiously. “Are you?”</p><p>The Radiance shakes her head. </p><p>Bee considers this. She does not put away her needle, but she does turn, slightly, to look again at the blackened veins of Infection. “I waited here for our other sibling to return. Seeing you freed, and seeing the Infection withered away… you would know better than me. Is she… dead?”</p><p>The Radiance is not dead. She knows this, just as well as she knows that Holly is perhaps something even further. The dead still linger in this world frequently, in the form of dreams—far be it from the Goddess of Dreams to not know what occurs in her own domain. But there is no echo of Holly, nothing <em> to </em> linger. They’re just… gone.</p><p>And the Radiance <em> hates </em> it. She wouldn’t trade her life for Holly’s in a heartbeat, if it came to that. But she would seriously consider the option nevertheless.</p><p>She has no other option. So, quietly, she nods. She sits the body down into a cross-legged position, examining too the vines. She wouldn’t call that <em> withered, </em> although perhaps they <em> are </em> smaller than they were. They’re certainly much less brighter in color.</p><p>She hopes, for Bee’s sake, that she’s right about them. The alternative is… to say the least, <em> not good. </em> Ironically, it might work out better for her than most others, given her current predicament.</p><p>Ironically, and <em> horribly. </em> Not for the first time, not even for the fiftieth, she curses fate and its reckonings and anything else she can think of. Also, the Wyrm. The <em> Pale King. </em></p><p><em> Fuck </em> the Pale King.</p><p>“I cannot say that I will miss her,” Bee continues. “Though I wish I knew better what has happened. Do you have any idea?”</p><p>A headshake. That much, technically, isn’t a lie—she has no twice-damned <em> idea </em> what happened.</p><p>“I was afraid you would say that… or… well, you know what I mean.” Bee takes a seat beside her. Her needle is shifted to her other hand. “This would be much easier if you could talk, you know. I don’t suppose you can?”</p><p>Radiance lifts her hand and shakes it in a <em> so-so </em> gesture.</p><p>“More promising than I expected,” Bee admits. “I… am glad. That you’re free. That you’re…” She laughs, hollowly. The sound echoes through the cavern. “Not okay, I suppose. Neither am I. I have not been for a long time. I’m… not… convinced I ever truly was.”</p><p>She hesitates, but makes up her mind, and puts her hand on the young spider’s head. She pats it reassuringly, or in a way she <em> hopes </em> is reassuring.</p><p>“I—okay, stop that,” Bee says, and while the words are without much malice, Radiance immediately withdraws. “Sorry. You’re trying to help, aren’t you?”</p><p>Radiance nods. Holly may be gone, and she doesn’t even want to consider what may have become of the little ghost. But this one of the Wyrm’s children…</p><p>Maybe she can save this one. Maybe she can be there for her, because the <em> Wyrm </em> certainly never was. The poor girl has been through so <em> much </em> already.</p><p>Radiance strongly suspects that, if Bee had any idea of who was really sitting beside her, she would <em> not </em> be content to remain here, and certainly wouldn’t be airing some of her trauma to the one bug who cannot tell anyone about it.</p><p>She reaches out again, and, gently, pulls Bee close. The spider does not relax. But she does say, quietly, “Thank you… Hollow?”</p><p>Radiance immediately stiffens. No, <em> that </em> won’t do at all. Even Holly wouldn’t have… they knew, for a long time, that they weren’t <em> hollow </em> in the way they so deeply desired to be. Calling them Hollow is an insult at best and a mockery of their memory at worst.</p><p>Instead, she reaches out. Trying to recall what limited knowledge she has of the runes in use, she traces out the letters <em> H-O-L-L-Y, </em> then directs Bee’s attention to them.</p><p>“Holly?” Bee reads aloud. “Is that what you wish for me to call you?”</p><p>A nod. It’s what Holly would have wanted, if they were still here, and if they had thought themself worthy to want anything at all.</p><p>“Very well,” Bee continues. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Holly, though I wish it were under better circumstances. My name is Hornet, though I suppose you already knew that.”</p><p>And that is how the Radiance realizes she’s had the wrong name for the Wyrm’s last child <em> the entire time. </em> Perhaps it is a good thing she can’t bring herself to speak after all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>imagine being stuck in your enemy's kid's body after they just fucking disappear at the last second, panicking, and pretending to be their younger sister's older sibling so you don't immediately get blasted into oblivion AGAIN but also goddammit they should be here too they should have outlived their father and you can't exactly tell their sister that they didn't NOW can you.</p><p>welcome to the Radiangst!</p><p>(for those of you coming from Red Princess: yes, this takes place in the same universe and during some of the same time period. some things that seemed odd in Red Princess may now make a <i>lot</i> more sense with this bit of context.)</p><p>side note: I've been naming chapters after TV tropes pages. here's this one: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/AndIMustScream">And I Must Scream</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Stranger in a Familiar Land</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She lets herself be persuaded to accompany Hornet to the town on the surface—or at least, what most bugs these days believe to be the surface. Of course they do. Very few of them can fly, and those that can have no desire to fly high enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(The Radiance has seen the true surface, exactly once, with her little brother. It was long before the accident, and longer still before the Wyrm arrived. They had always been competitive, and bets on who could fly higher and longer turned into a race to the very top.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(The sun was blinding, and it was beautiful, and no one else ever knew it existed.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(She misses her little brother. She doubts he misses her.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Climbing the rope up to the little town is an experience in itself, given that she only has one usable arm. Hornet does not offer help, however, so she does not ask for it. Instead, she ascends. How?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Carefully.</span>
  </em>
  <span> More specifically, by first jumping up to the point where she can brace the body against the wall, and then using that to hold herself where while she moves her grip on the rope further up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes </span>
  <em>
    <span>much</span>
  </em>
  <span> longer than it could have with </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> usable arms, and even that pales in comparison to how long it could have taken with wings. But Holly had not had two arms for a long time, and they never had wings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And if she can pretend that Holly isn’t gone for just a little longer, that Hornet hasn’t lost all she has left—</span>
  <em>
    <span>her mother was a Dreamer, wasn’t she?</span>
  </em>
  <span>—then she will.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rationalizes it, as she walks, as it being a way for her to bide her time and recover. She’s not convinced she </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> currently manifest a true physical form. Being forgotten takes its toll, as does being chained up for </span>
  <em>
    <span>years,</span>
  </em>
  <span> as does whatever happened with the little ghost and the Lord of Shades.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(She’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> to gather her strength, if the Lord of Shades truly has reformed. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>possible</span>
  </em>
  <span> that they don’t know what they are doing. It’s equally possible that they know </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> what they are doing, and she didn’t create the Infection just for it to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>stolen.</span>
  </em>
  <span>)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet is waiting for her at the top, and pulls her up the last few feet. “Welcome to Dirtmouth, Holly. It’s not much, but… it’s the closest thing we have to safety these days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dirtmouth is </span>
  <em>
    <span>tiny.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The town, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>village,</span>
  </em>
  <span> really, is small even compared to the village of mantises far below them. It’s even tinier compared to the Wyrm’s precious city, a city that now lives up to the name </span>
  <em>
    <span>City of Tears.</span>
  </em>
  <span> There are a handful of buildings with lights on, a bench next to the well, and an elderly bug standing beside it, deep in conversation with a timid little beetle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The beetle seems… familiar, almost? Perhaps she had been infected, as much as any living bug can be. She seems fine now. That’s a relief to see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Elderbug and Bretta,” Hornet says under her breath, answering the question left unvoiced. “Follow me. Elderbug has been attempting to persuade me into one of the unoccupied houses for some time now, and I suppose now I have a reason to take him up on his offer. We need a proper base of operations, and if I try counting the cracks on the walls outside your Temple any longer, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> scream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> hopes that Elderbug is the elderly bug. Otherwise, that will get rather… confusing. She follows Hornet as she marches over, overhearing some small snippet of a conversation about a bug named Zote before Bretta(?) jumps with a surprised, “Oh!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Hornet,” Elderbug greets. “A pleasure to see you again. Who is this you have with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My sibling,” Hornet says curtly. “Their name is Holly. They need somewhere safe to recover.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance manages a wave, and tries not to cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. Of course! There are still… </span>
  <em>
    <span>many</span>
  </em>
  <span> empty houses in Dirtmouth. You are welcome to any of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Hornet turns her attention to the beetle. “Bretta, how are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eep,” Bretta squeaks. “Fine! Thank you, R—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hornet!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Oooh, Bretta is </span>
  <em>
    <span>blushing.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hornet’s got an </span>
  <em>
    <span>admirer</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>adorable</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Maybe Radiance can help her with that, or at the very least make an attempt. It’s the least she can do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t regret what she had to do. But she regrets that it had to go </span>
  <em>
    <span>this far.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It shouldn’t have. It should have scared the Wyrm enough that he stopped where he was, not so much that he redoubled his efforts and sacrificed his own </span>
  <em>
    <span>child</span>
  </em>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am glad to hear it,” Hornet says genuinely, and oh no, Bretta is blushing even more. “How may I tell which homes are unoccupied?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At this time?” Elderbug taps his chin with a claw, considering this. “Any one with the lights off. Oh—except the one with the weird winged beetle above the entrance. That would be our Stag Station.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet turns to look at it. Radiance does the same. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Weird winged beetle</span>
  </em>
  <span> indeed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The weird winged beetle,” Hornet repeats in disbelief. “Do you mean the </span>
  <em>
    <span>king of Hallownest?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Is that who that was supposed to be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance can’t hold it in any longer. Her shoulders shake, but not with tears this time. She snickers. Audibly. Whoops.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holly!” Hornet turns on her. “This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> funny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, it isn’t merely </span>
  <em>
    <span>funny</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>hilarious.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She only laughs harder. Light and dark, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to laugh like this—and the fact that it’s at the Wyrm’s expense </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainly</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t hurt. That stylized depiction of him really </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> look like a weird winged beetle. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>wings</span>
  </em>
  <span> look like him, and the </span>
  <em>
    <span>crown</span>
  </em>
  <span> looks like him, but that is where the similarities end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She should go find whoever created that symbol and congratulate them. Except, of course, that they are most likely dead. Truly a tragic loss, one the kingdom will never recover from. She’d bet that the Wyrm never even bothered to check what his symbol looked like, just assumed it would be good and never left his palace to see for himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even Holly would find it at least a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little</span>
  </em>
  <span> funny. But Holly isn’t here, and the thought of them sobers her up fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad,” Hornet mutters, “that at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> of us is enjoying this. Your assistance is appreciated, Elderbug.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, of course! Let me know which one you pick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet nods. She grabs Radiance by the arm and all but drags her down a side path. Once they’re out of earshot, she turns to her and hisses, “Was it really </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> funny?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance nods immediately, and gives her a look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I… suppose, you may have a point. A small one.” Hornet clears her throat and continues, “At least I haven’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>completely</span>
  </em>
  <span> ruined things with one bug here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance cocks her head, confused. She traces the letter-rune for B in the air, and thanks no one in particular that the Wyrm hadn’t created a completely new writing system, only adapted the one already in existence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Bretta? What about her?” Hornet receives a shrug. “We met in… some slightly embarrassing circumstances. I will tell you, but you cannot tell </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> else. I suppose you </span>
  <em>
    <span>cannot</span>
  </em>
  <span> tell anyone if you wish to. However—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very well, then. I found her searching for our other sibling. Ghost, they wished to be called, or at the very least they did not </span>
  <em>
    <span>complain</span>
  </em>
  <span> about being called that. I had grown tired of waiting for them outside the… your temple, and decided to find them if I had to drag them back myself. That was when I first set foot in Dirtmouth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stop in front of a house with a low roof. It is a very nice looking house, she will admit, but when Hornet looks hopeful, Radiance gestures to her—to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Holly’s</span>
  </em>
  <span>—horns. Hornet makes a noise of understanding, and they continue walking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet continues, “Elderbug told me of Bretta, and that she had been formerly quite taken with Ghost, and that she had departed over the cliffs for lands unknown. He thought that, perhaps, Ghost had gone after her. So I tracked her myself. I did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> find Ghost. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> find Bretta, running away screaming from a tiktik.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A </span>
  <em>
    <span>tiktik?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Radiance stares at her in clear disbelief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As I said,” Hornet’s shoulders sag slightly, “I believe my mere presence embarrasses her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She thinks </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Radiance isn’t sure whether this is funny or sad. She settles on sad, and gives her a disappointed look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> look for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance gestures vaguely back the way they’d come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You genuinely think she is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> embarrassed by me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A headshake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> does she go red </span>
  <em>
    <span>every time</span>
  </em>
  <span> I go within </span>
  <em>
    <span>six feet</span>
  </em>
  <span> of her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance lifts her head and glares at the cavern roof, far, </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> above them. When she returns her attention to ground level, Hornet is looking at another house in Dirtmouth thoughtfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This building is big enough for you,” Hornet says thoughtfully, “though the door will be a tight fit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance shrugs. She can duck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance quickly shakes her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I was going to say with this living situation, but if you’re not okay in </span>
  <em>
    <span>general…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She points at the house and nods, then points at herself—at what should have been Holly—and shakes her head. No, she’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> okay. She hasn’t been okay for a long time, but she’s certainly nowhere near it </span>
  <em>
    <span>now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Hornet says helplessly. “In truth, I don’t know who </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> okay, but we are alive. There is something to be said for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance looks away. If she only knew. Oh, if she only </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It has been a few days of resting, a few days of not talking about the things that should really be talked about and of trying to figure out where Ghost has gone. Hornet is poring over a map of Hallownest and other areas, newly acquired from the cheerful couple living closer to the well, and unfortunately woefully complete.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Corny can’t get </span>
  <em>
    <span>everywhere</span>
  </em>
  <span> down there,” the mapmaker’s wife, Iselda, had said with an eyeroll when asked. “That being said, he will certainly </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span> once he’s done sleeping off </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> mapping binge, so you are welcome to come back later to see if he’s gotten more. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Or</span>
  </em>
  <span> you can buy a quill and fill in the rest yourself. If you do, don’t show your maps to my husband, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> cry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>mapmaker,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hornet had insisted in return. “Wouldn’t he appreciate the help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Given that he makes maps for the fun of it, and not for selling? Like I said, he’d cry. Otherwise I’d go down there myself.” Iselda had rolled her eyes again. “I’m tempted to go with him next time anyway. The only ones buying our maps are you and that little masked fella, and… well… haven’t seen them in a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet had hissed something about that little masked fella being the reason she </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> a map and stormed out. Radiance had followed her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And here they are, Hornet attempting to fill in what she can from memory and not doing all that well. At last, her head hits the table next to the map with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thunk.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“We will have to go back down there,” comes the muffled mutter through the table. “I don’t suppose </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> would have any insight on where they could be, Holly? Some kind of Void connection thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Void connection, no. But as the Goddess of Dreams… she could tell, to an extent, where something is </span>
  <em>
    <span>being</span>
  </em>
  <span> dreamed. Assuming the little ghost was </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> Little Ghost… she sets a finger on the Temple of the Black Egg, and tries to think.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been further down, that much she is sure of. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Much</span>
  </em>
  <span> further down, but in what direction? West or east? North or south?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Down and east, she’s pretty sure. More down than east. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Much</span>
  </em>
  <span> more down than east. In that direction is the rest of the Forgotten Crossroads, the west of the City of Tears, the Royal Waterways (a very fancy way to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>the sewers</span>
  </em>
  <span>), and… oh, that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>interesting.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The furthest thing on the map is the ruins of the White Palace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Maybe something </span>
  <em>
    <span>else</span>
  </em>
  <span> killed the Wyrm. But… Radiance doubts it. Were he that easy to kill, she would have done away with him herself.)</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“There?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hornet asks, and she realizes her finger has been lingering on the palace ruins for far too long. She draws a line back to the prison, then points in the direction of the palace. “Somewhere… in that direction?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance nods. That, she’s sure of. At the very least, they can find where Hornet’s remaining sibling was dreaming </span>
  <em>
    <span>from,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and perhaps piece together what happened from there. The Lord of Shades, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hopefully,</span>
  </em>
  <span> will not be there any longer. If they </span>
  <em>
    <span>are…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Forget hiding. She is </span>
  <em>
    <span>going</span>
  </em>
  <span> to keep this remaining child safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is… a start, I suppose,” Hornet says quietly. “Even if…” She trails off. Her head droops. Her mask clunks against the table again, lightly this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, she starts to </span>
  <em>
    <span>snore.</span>
  </em>
  <span> At least, Radiance is pretty sure that’s snoring. She’s not sure what else it would </span>
  <em>
    <span>be,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and she doesn’t want to risk moving in case Hornet is a light sleeper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Is she sleeping? Radiance is </span>
  <em>
    <span>reasonably</span>
  </em>
  <span> certain that she’s sleeping, which is a first. It has been a few days, almost a full week, and come to think of it, she hasn’t seen Hornet actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>sleep</span>
  </em>
  <span> once. Not here and now, and not before, in the many times she’d seen her through the orange-tinted eyes of the Infected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s not convinced that the Wyrm ever slept either. But her mother was mortal, so her body likely needs </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> sleep. Perhaps less than the average, then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or perhaps, Hornet has merely been running herself ragged for a very long time. She reaches out, cautiously, with her mind. Gently—the very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> last thing she wants to do is start a second Infection with Hornet as Patient Zero—she nudges the spiderling’s mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet doesn’t respond, physically or otherwise. She’s exhausted. That, Radiance supposes, is </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> way to avoid dreaming: put off sleep so much that you bypass that stage entirely. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> be useful, were the Infection still relevant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it’s not, and remaining awake for that long </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> be healthy for even a half-mortal, and no matter how Hornet pretends otherwise, she’s barely more than a child herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance watches for a long moment. Then, she drapes a blanket around Hornet’s shoulders. The girl stirs at the contact, but does not wake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hand that is not the Radiance’s lingers for a moment on her shoulder, and then she withdraws it with a wordless apology.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She is not sorry for what she had to do. But she </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry for at least one direct result of it: that the half-spider, half-Wyrm finally resting properly had to grow up too fast. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Impossibly</span>
  </em>
  <span> fast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vessels, she is reasonably sure, don’t actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>require</span>
  </em>
  <span> sleep. But while she is currently inhabiting the body of one, she is not… them. Nor will she ever be them. And she is </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired.</span>
  </em>
  <span> So, leaning carefully against the wall, she lets the eyes behind the broken mask fall shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the first time in a very long time, she dreams.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TV Trope: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/StrangerInAFamiliarLand">Stranger in a Familiar Land</a></p><p>Radiance is really over here like "hey, does this child belong to anyone? no? okay good I'm keeping her"</p><p>also side note, because I had a lot of confusion over this myself: most bugs have claws, vessels seem to have fingers because they're Weird. I'm rolling with it and trying not to think too hard about that. Hornet? who even KNOWS. I just know she probably has more than four legs</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Dreaming of Times Gone By</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She flies as fast as she can, which isn’t as fast as she </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> fly if she wasn’t fluffed up and panicking. In her defense, she has a </span>
  <em>
    <span>very good reason</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be fluffed up and panicking, but she forces herself to slow down and take a deep breath or several. It won’t do him any good if she crashes before she gets there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still fluffed somewhat, but not to the extent she was, she shoots through the air again, scanning the ground for any sign of her brother’s darker wings. This cavern is </span>
  <em>
    <span>huge.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He has to be here somewhere, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>where?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t close her eyes to focus, because doing that midflight is </span>
  <em>
    <span>asking</span>
  </em>
  <span> to crash and burn. But she knows—she </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span>—he has to be here </span>
  <em>
    <span>somewhere.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He can’t be… no. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> be gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d screamed for help through the dream realm, then gone silent. He hasn’t responded since. Scariest of all is that she can’t feel his presence, now. She’s in the right area, but…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What if she never finds him? What if she finds him and he’s…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grimm!” She yells, out loud this time. “Where </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s no answer, not verbally. But somewhere below her, there is a dull flash of red at her words. Her eyes narrow. She swoops down towards the red light. It’s coming from a tunnel deeper in, so she follows </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tunnel narrows as she follows it, forcing her to land. She tucks her wings around her and </span>
  <em>
    <span>sprints.</span>
  </em>
  <span> At last, she rounds a corner. She stops with a horrified gasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> be gasping because she nearly ran headlong into fire, and fluff is unfortunately very flammable. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> be gasping because the room has so much fire in it that if she didn’t know better she’d say the floor was quite literally lava.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fire aside, she’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>much</span>
  </em>
  <span> more concerned with the figure lying prone in the center of the flaming room. She can’t see him well, but… that’s definitely him. That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> Grimm. And he doesn’t look good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(He doesn’t look </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive,</span>
  </em>
  <span> either, but she is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to even consider that right now.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold on,” she says, mostly to herself, and focuses. With an audible </span>
  <em>
    <span>pop</span>
  </em>
  <span> and a flash of gold light, she’s teleported beside him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm looks even worse than she thought. His fluff is almost completely scorched away, leaving him much thinner looking. His wings, at least, aren’t damaged, but he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>covered</span>
  </em>
  <span> in burn marks. He’s breathing, but not by much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grimm, can you hear me?” She hisses urgently. The flames are… well, they’re not getting any </span>
  <em>
    <span>closer,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but also they’re far too close for comfort already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Urrrgh,” Grimm groans without opening his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will take that as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes, dear sister, I would love for you to get me out of here before we both burn to death.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>welcome.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And, gathering her brother up in her arms—he’s so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> light, </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> is he so light, what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> was he </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing</span>
  </em>
  <span>—she returns to safety with another audible golden </span>
  <em>
    <span>pop.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She sets him down then, and settles down to wait, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>tries</span>
  </em>
  <span> not to panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(She is not very successful on the not panicking front. Particularly not when the fire continues to spread toward the center of the room, eventually setting the place her brother had lain aflame. He still would have been there, had she not arrived in time.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(And the flames </span>
  <em>
    <span>aren’t going out.</span>
  </em>
  <span>)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After what feels like centuries, Grimm stirs with a twitch and then a series of hacking coughs. She’s at his side immediately, whacking his back perhaps a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little</span>
  </em>
  <span> harder than she should. Counterpoint: she would </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> appreciate an explanation as to </span>
  <em>
    <span>what the fuck happened</span>
  </em>
  <span> and if she knows her brother at all, she’s not getting one unless she pushes for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, you’re awake,” she says once he’s mostly recovered. “What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> is going </span>
  <em>
    <span>on?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He squints blearily at her. “Soleil? What are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You called. I came. You’re lucky I did, because I doubt you would be here without </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> to pull you out of there. Speaking of which,” Soleil gestures furiously at the undying flames. “What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Grimm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” He coughs again. His voice is dry and scratchy, she notes with more concern than she’ll show. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” He snaps his fingers. The flames extinguish in an instant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Supposed to—are you telling me this was on </span>
  <em>
    <span>purpose?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fire powers, yes. Feeling like I’ve been buried alive with lava slowly dripping down into my coffin, no.” He coughs again. It does not do anything to prevent him from sounding like he has smoke in his throat. “Ow. Well, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> work, so I suppose it wasn’t a complete loss. I don’t look too bad, do I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil levels him an unimpressed look. Completely deadpan, she says, “The boys will be </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> over you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He winces. “That bad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re up to flying, you can see for yourself. Otherwise, take my word for it that you look </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrible.</span>
  </em>
  <span> What did you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>do?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes open more now, and he looks at her. She realizes, suddenly, that his eyes aren’t glowing gold anymore. They’re glowing red, the same red as the scarlet flames he now controls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I,” Grimm admits, slightly sheepishly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“may</span>
  </em>
  <span> have attempted to become the physical manifestation of the Nightmare Heart. And I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> succeed, by the way, in something that hasn’t been done since long before either of us were even thought of. I do believe congratulations are in order?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Grimm.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” Upon receiving another look from Soleil, he admits, “Okay, so I may have fucked up the ritual the </span>
  <em>
    <span>teensiest</span>
  </em>
  <span> bit. What of it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could have stopped at </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucked up,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Soleil replies. She extends a hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I don’t think you’ll be </span>
  <em>
    <span>half</span>
  </em>
  <span> as smug when you see what you did to yourself.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Radiance wakes to black dribbling down the broken mask, and for an instant, she panics. Then she remembers. Holly is gone, and she’s stuck in their body. Their little spiderling sister is still asleep where she’d left her, though at some point she’d pulled the blanket closer. They’re in Dirtmouth, above the kingdom that ruined everything, and she feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> too responsible for the last child of the Wyrm who ruined everything nearly singlehandedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wipes away the black before it can drip onto the floor and sits, silently, considering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That </span>
  <em>
    <span>dream</span>
  </em>
  <span> was anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>but</span>
  </em>
  <span> a dream. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> was a memory, from so long ago that if it hadn’t been so important she would have long since forgotten it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It has been a long time since anyone has called her Soleil. It has been a long time since her brother called her anything not laden with expletives. It has been a long time since she’s even </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen</span>
  </em>
  <span> her brother in the physical realm, and at this point it’s likely for the best that she doesn’t see him for any longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn’t exactly part on good terms, after all. Though is that </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> her fault?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knock comes on the front door, startling her out of her reverie. She starts at the sound, but gets up quickly. Whoever is knocking hasn’t woken up Hornet </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but she isn’t about to hope they’ll be as lucky with the second set of knocks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She opens the door just as the beetle standing in front of it is reaching to knock again. Bretta nearly leaps out of her carapace with a surprised, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance stares at her, because she can’t exactly do much more in the way of emoting with this mask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um,” Bretta tries, “c-could I talk to the Red… um, I mean Hornet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shakes her head and moves to close the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-wait! I get if it’s a bad time, I do! But this is really, really important! It’s about your other sibling. The white… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ghost!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, this actually is important. And the last thing Radiance wants to do is scare off Hornet’s first potential girlfriend, even if Bretta is a little… quirky. But the very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> last thing she wants to do is wake up Hornet when she clearly needs the sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shoulders slumping, she says, with the voice Holly never had, “She’s asleep. Come back later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bretta stares at her, dumbfounded. “You can </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance nods, and begins to close the door again. No sooner has she begun that a voice from behind her exclaims, “You can </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
  <span> So much for keeping Hornet asleep, </span>
  <em>
    <span>or</span>
  </em>
  <span> for saving the fact that Holly </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> in fact have a voice to cry suffering for a better time. She doesn’t turn to face Hornet. Instead, she rasps, for having a </span>
  <em>
    <span>voice</span>
  </em>
  <span> does not necessarily make it a </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> one, “Yes. She’s awake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And saying that, Radiance steps aside. Bretta tells the tale of Hornet’s missing sibling having rescued her from the depths of the Fungal Wastes, confused and alone. She goes on to describe something that sounds, in appearance, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>unlike</span>
  </em>
  <span> a vessel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This pseudo-vessel, however, had taken one look at Ghost and decried them as a monster and a fraud. To this day, he sits near the edge of Dirtmouth, spouting bugshit to anyone who will listen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Bretta sounds suspiciously like she used to be someone who would listen. Hornet very smartly does not bring that part up.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All thoughts of Zote aside</span>
  <em>
    <span>,</span>
  </em>
  <span> as soon as Bretta is gone, Hornet turns on Radiance to hiss, “How </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> have you been able to talk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance sighs. “I couldn’t say,” she admits, truthfully. It occurs to her just how much Holly’s voice sounds like Grimm’s these days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> a comparison she wants to be making here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very well. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How</span>
  </em>
  <span> are you able to talk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Her,” she says simply. “The—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet presses a claw to her mask before she can even finish. “I understand. There’s no need to say the name. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>last</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing we need is her coming </span>
  <em>
    <span>back,</span>
  </em>
  <span> especially </span>
  <em>
    <span>now.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance looks away and says nothing as Hornet continues, “At least she is gone. And at least I still have you, even if we’ve lost Ghost. I…” She breathes in shakily. “I know you never really met them, but I </span>
  <em>
    <span>miss</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ghost. They managed to do so much in such a short time, and… they can’t be gone. We’ll find them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An all too familiar rage bubbles up within Radiance. If the vessel called Ghost was the vessel that kept calling her to that dream, the one that ascended to be the new Lord of Shades… well, for one thing, they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>rude.</span>
  </em>
  <span> They kept yanking her out of her prison without even having the decency to free her permanently from it. They’d clearly inherited their father’s manners.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Is it so horrible to hope that they couldn’t handle the power and perished? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t think it is, but the black welling up behind her mask seems to think otherwise. She blinks back the Void before it can drip on anything (or any</span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span>) important, and says, quietly, “What will you do about Zote?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First of all, find him. After that,” Hornet taps the needle that hasn’t left her back since they arrived in Dirtmouth meaningfully. “I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> have the likes of </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> insult our sibling’s memory, </span>
  <em>
    <span>particularly</span>
  </em>
  <span> not if they are…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her mask inclines downward slightly. She says, in a smaller voice, “I don’t want to lose anyone else. Is that so selfish?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance thinks of her moths, and of the Wyrm himself. “No, it certainly is not. That being said…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet looks up at her. “Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You may wish to refrain from outright killing him.” She thinks, and chooses the rest of her words carefully. It wouldn’t do for her to out herself over </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all the little things. “The other residents of this village may not take kindly to murder without provocation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re likely right. Unfortunately.” Hornet sighs. “I doubt Dirtmouth follows the laws of Deepnest. I am not convinced they even entirely follow the laws of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hallownest.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And they shouldn’t,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Radiance stops herself from saying just in time. Instead, she wordlessly motions for Hornet to elaborate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By the Weaver’s code, insulting you or a loved one would be enough to issue a challenge. Granted, he would then have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>accept</span>
  </em>
  <span> the challenge, but I suspect that would become a moot point. In Hallownest, meanwhile, you’re only allowed to attack someone in self-defense, so I would have to provoke him to attack me first. Which is, unfortunately, much easier said than done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance doesn’t even know why she’s surprised that the Wyrm had even been hypocritical in his law code. Then again, he was likely above the law, and so were those who took their orders directly from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you miss Deepnest?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I miss the Deepnest that was, before the Infection took hold. Perhaps even before our father arrived. The Deepnest of today does not live up to its former glory, and I greatly prefer elsewhere.” Hornet grips her needle by the handle again. “Come with me. I may need backup should this </span>
  <em>
    <span>Zote</span>
  </em>
  <span> decide to fight dirty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance nods, but does not follow immediately. As much as… well, everyone, needs to recover, she’s recovered </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and she’s already gotten too attached. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span> to find the Wyrm—if not to kill him herself, then to confirm that something else did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But… maybe she can stay just a little longer. Just long enough so that Hornet doesn’t immediately realize that her remaining sibling is already gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(She does not feel bad about this.)</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>press x to doubt</p><p>anyway, tv tropes page: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/DreamingOfTimesGoneBy">dreaming of times gone by</a></p><p>while we're here, expect everyone who has a "name" ingame that's just a title (ie: pale king, white lady, <i>the radiance</i>) to get an actual name. itll just depend on where the story goes if that name comes up.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Throwing Down the Gauntlet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Zote the “Mighty” looks like a vessel. He bears a mask of white chitin, with two mismatched horns, a dark grey cloak, and no discernable features beyond the suspiciously wooden-looking nail on his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, and the mouth. He has a </span>
  <em>
    <span>mouth</span>
  </em>
  <span> set into what had appeared to be a mask, but must in that case be his actual face. That alone sets him apart from any actual vessel, which is rather ironic, as even a cursory look at his mind proves there isn’t… much. Were it not for him blathering on and on to no one in particular about how legendary his “exploits” are, the Wyrm would have loved him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As it is, waiting for Hornet’s not-yet-girlfriend to arrive is seriously testing Radiance’s extremely limited patience. Judging by the impatient tapping of her needle against the ground, Hornet is getting tired of waiting, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At last, Bretta comes running, breathless. The girl says, quickly, “I’m here! I’m here, sorry, sorry—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is no bother,” Hornet lies. “What did Elderbug say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That the G… that </span>
  <em>
    <span>Zote</span>
  </em>
  <span> was annoying </span>
  <em>
    <span>but</span>
  </em>
  <span> he couldn’t condone outright murder in the middle of town. But outside of town would be fine, and just beating some sense into him </span>
  <em>
    <span>in</span>
  </em>
  <span> town would be fine so long as he attacked first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Straightforward enough. Provoking someone like him will not be difficult.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The hard part will be getting him to stop talking long enough to issue a challenge,” Bretta admits. “He talks a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about that. There are multiple ways to convey my point without speaking, although I fully intend to let him know </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> why I am doing this. Is there anything else I should know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhm… not </span>
  <em>
    <span>r-really,</span>
  </em>
  <span> just… I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance looks at her encouragingly. Unfortunately, the look is either misinterpreted (easy with a mask) or ignored entirely, because Bretta quails and says, quickly, “Just don’t kill him please! He’s annoying and stupid but I’m sure you can just… persuade him to leave!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I make no promises,” Hornet replies, “but I will make an attempt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lovely, can you get on with it?” Radiance asks. “He’s gone over his precepts </span>
  <em>
    <span>twice</span>
  </em>
  <span> since we have stood here. If I am not mistaken, he is about to go over them a </span>
  <em>
    <span>third</span>
  </em>
  <span> time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet gives her a strange look, but nods nevertheless. Retrieving her needle, she walks purposefully towards Zote, needle in hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t even react until she plants the needle in the ground two inches from his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>cur!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Keep your filthy weapon away from me! Do you know who I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am?</span>
  </em>
  <span> I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>Zote,</span>
  </em>
  <span> a knight of </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span> renown!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you now?” Hornet says dryly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the first time, Zote actually looks up. His jaw drops. He’s definitely not wearing a mask, how is that his actual </span>
  <em>
    <span>face?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Nevertheless, Zote gets to his feet, and bows. “Worry not, fair lady, for I shall protect you from this needle-bearing… foe…” He grabs clumsily for the needle. Hornet yanks it out of the way. He does not seem to see </span>
  <em>
    <span>who</span>
  </em>
  <span> yanked it out of the way, and looks around before his gaze settles on the Radiance. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You.</span>
  </em>
  <span> What say you? Do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>truly</span>
  </em>
  <span> think you can stand up to the might of my weapon, the aptly-named Life Ender?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me,” Radiance says, dumbfounded. “You wish to fight </span>
  <em>
    <span>me?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s cute. Were she in her true form, she could blast him into oblivion with a twitch of her wing. Like this… should Hornet change her mind, she can still take him without too much trouble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Though Holly’s body is… still weak, and broken. She’ll have to be careful, even if they aren’t… coming back.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You issued a challenge! I have no choice but to sever that misshapen head of yours from its shoulders!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Misshapen… head? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Misshapen?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Of all the insults he could have spouted, he could have at least pretended it was an accurate one. Nevertheless, Hornet extends her needle to the side, and stands between Zote, Radiance, and—watching from a safe distance—Bretta.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t fight </span>
  <em>
    <span>them,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hornet hisses. “Fight </span>
  <em>
    <span>me.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A lady of your quality? I could never!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Lady</span>
  </em>
  <span>—” The poor spider audibly gags. “You asked if I knew who you were. Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> know who </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> am?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Either milady, or a foe to be vanquished promptly and effectively. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> am—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Zote, yes, knight of great renown, I have heard this enough already. Who in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>world</span>
  </em>
  <span> knighted </span>
  <em>
    <span>you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I,” Zote says stiffly, “am self-taught. No teacher could stand up to the great and powerful </span>
  <em>
    <span>Zote,</span>
  </em>
  <span> knight of great renown!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not,” Hornet replies with enough dryness in her words to spontaneously turn Greenpath into a desert. “You may be Zote, yes. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> am Hornet. I am the daughter of two kingdoms, the child of three queens. I learned the arts of war from the weavers of Deepnest, the warriors of the Hive, the lords of the Mantis Tribe, and the great knights of Hallownest. My silk sings, and my needle is strong. You may have heard of Herrah the Beast? The </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pale King?</span>
  </em>
  <span> They were my parents, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>I am stronger than both of them.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zote blinks. “Never heard of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet audibly groans. She swings her needle around, angling the tip directly between Zote’s eyes. “That does not matter, for you have just heard of me. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> am who you will have to worry about, if you don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop insulting my siblings.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holly,” she gestures at the Radiance in the body that is not hers, “and Ghost, though I suppose you would know them better as the </span>
  <em>
    <span>foolish cur</span>
  </em>
  <span> you decided to openly disparage to the bugs of this town.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zote blinks again. He seems remarkably nonplussed by being kept at needlepoint. “Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> useless squib? I would have cut them down where they stood, were it not a waste of my superior talents.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Superior? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Superior?</span>
  </em>
  <span> If your skills are so </span>
  <em>
    <span>superior,</span>
  </em>
  <span> then why don’t you test them against me?” Hornet twirls her needle around, passing it to another arm and pointing it at the dirt. “After all, how could a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lady</span>
  </em>
  <span> stand a chance against </span>
  <em>
    <span>Zote, knight of great renown?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>For a few, long seconds, Zote stares at her, unblinking. Then he draws his nail, and says, “I accept your challenge, though I regret to play a part in the end of such a lovely lady.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He charges, flailing his nail wildly. Hornet leaps into the air and does a backflip. She pulls herself up to stand on the end of her needle, stringing silk with her, and lets gravity take its course. She falls. Zote swings up with his nail. It thunks harmlessly against Hornet’s mask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet’s single downstroke, on the other hand, is enough to pin him to the ground by his cloak. She grabs her planted needle with two arms and loops around him, stringing silk behind her all the way with her third. Once she’s circled back around, she pulls it tight, leaving Zote trussed up not unlike a spider’s prey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t move, but she still kicks his weapon cleanly out of his grip. It sails into the air, spinning end over end. It falls. Hornet catches it by the blade, or what </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> be the blade—she looks at it so disdainfully that there has to be something seriously wrong with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your weapon is made of </span>
  <em>
    <span>wood,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hornet informs the strung-up Zote.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” Zote struggles to free himself. “Let me go, </span>
  <em>
    <span>cur!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Have at you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I don’t think I will. Not unless you swear on your life to never return to this village, and to never again bother my family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Zote spits. “This place held nothing for me anyway.” And so, walking past the angry Hornet and the starstruck Bretta, he walks right out of town.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet was absolutely showing off. Radiance has seen her fight before, through the eyes of the Infected—and she did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> fight like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> when her life was on the line. The girl going off alone with Bretta shortly after only confirms it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Much later, Radiance pretends not to notice Hornet leaving their temporary home once again, long after everyone else in the town is asleep. She doesn’t do as well pretending not to notice the fresh hemolymph on her needle when she returns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet looks at her. She looks at Hornet, and Radiance realizes she doesn’t care whether or not she put an end to Zote or merely scared him off more permanently. The end effect is the same. Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> problems can be solved by violence, but in this case… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She inclines her head in a nod and tells the spider, “You’ll want to clean that off before morning.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Radiance, Goddess of Light and Dreams, maintains that this was not a bad idea. The operative work there, of course, would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>was.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It had not seemed like such a bad idea at the time. Merely slip out quietly, leaving a note, then go to the Wyrm’s palace and see what’s become of it, and him. Kill him herself if necessary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She would be there and back before Hornet woke up. Or, more accurately, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>would have been</span>
  </em>
  <span> if she’d had the foresight to </span>
  <em>
    <span>bring the map.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But </span>
  <em>
    <span>no,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she left the map with Hornet because she had a general idea of where the palace was: below the Wyrm’s city, which could be accessed from the crossroads below Dirtmouth, and therefore she did not need a map.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps,” she mutters aloud as she surveys where she’s ended up instead, “I should have brought the map.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She went through the crossroads. She went all the way through the city, and then down from there. So how in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>world</span>
  </em>
  <span> did she wind up in an area of cliffs and sharp drops, with ash on the wind and the occasional bug corpse falling from above?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance must have made a wrong turn </span>
  <em>
    <span>somewhere.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She can’t have gone down too early, for the city clearly ended somewhere behind her. She genuinely did think she didn’t go down too late, but that must be what happened. Which means she has a </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> climb back up the way she came, and no easy way to climb it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she goes up and around instead. A Void gate gives her pause, but not much of one. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> technically Void herself now. Additionally, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Wyrm was tinkering with Void before and beyond what he did to his own children. She’s seen these gates before, strategically placed where he had something to hide. One such gate was placed preventing the Root’s exit, should she ever desire to do so. In theory, that gate could have been meant to protect her as well, but in the end it did not stop one very angry mantis and his kin from bypassing it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In her own body, if it still existed, she could merely teleport to the other side. These days, she at least can do so quietly, with a soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>swish</span>
  </em>
  <span> of feathers instead of the audible pop of old. Borrowing Holly’s body, on the other claw, allows her to merely step through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Void is cold. Uncomfortable, even with her current living situation. She suspects it would be much colder without being some amount of Void herself, but she still takes a moment to brush herself off and recover, for a moment. Not that she needs to, or she even </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span>. To her ultimate mission, this detour is fully unnecessary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she can’t help but wonder what the Wyrm was hiding here, so she proceeds. She doesn’t have to go very far, and what she sees makes her fists clench in renewed anger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a moth sitting in the room, with his back to her. The moth has red wings, a cream-colored ruff, and a necklace strung heavily with spherical grey baubles. He has what is unmistakably a Dreamshield strapped to his back, alongside a well-used nail. He also shimmers with essence, clearly marking him as no longer alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is another moth, identical save for the dull glow of essence, sitting directly across from him. This moth has a more physical Dreamshield clutched desperately, a nail dropped next to him, and several other nails buried in the ground around him. He is also very, very dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t have wielded all those nails on his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That </span>
  <em>
    <span>bastard,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Radiance mutters under her breath. Quietly, but not quietly enough—the dead moth turns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are not referring to </span>
  <em>
    <span>me,</span>
  </em>
  <span> correct?” He asks. “For if you were, I would have to once again draw my nail. I have been informed that I am no longer alive, therefore, I cannot die again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You,</span>
  </em>
  <span> however, </span>
  <em>
    <span>can.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” The moth deflates a little. “Do you want to spar anyway?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not particularly.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Visibly disappointed, the moth nods. “As you wish. I do not get many visitors here in my tomb, at the edge of the world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kingdom,” the Radiance corrects immediately. “There is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>wide</span>
  </em>
  <span> world outside the borders of what this </span>
  <em>
    <span>king</span>
  </em>
  <span> claimed as his own, with no thought as to who was already here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That… does not actually surprise me.” The moth bows. “I am Markoth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Radiance does not offer a name in return. Instead, she asks, “Do you know who killed you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do not.” Markoth sighs deeply. “Which is </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely</span>
  </em>
  <span> irritating, as I then have no knowledge of who to seek vengeance against.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I may have an idea.” She very resolutely does not look back at the Void gate. “Was there any battle you lost?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not until very recently. There was a little grub, barely more than a child, with little curved-up horns like this.” Markoth motions with his wings. That sounds </span>
  <em>
    <span>suspiciously</span>
  </em>
  <span> like the vessel who became the Lord of Shades, which is almost certainly Hornet’s remaining sibling. “However, it was they who enlightened me to the fact that I was already dead. That I had, perhaps, passed away a very long time ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fight before that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>won</span>
  </em>
  <span> that one,” Markoth says proudly. “There were some city guard types, yelling something or another about me </span>
  <em>
    <span>trespassing</span>
  </em>
  <span> which was </span>
  <em>
    <span>ridiculous</span>
  </em>
  <span> because I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>well</span>
  </em>
  <span> beyond the reach of the City, thank you </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> much. They attacked, I defended—and I killed two of them before the rest retreated, mind. Once I was sure they were gone, and my own injuries had been attended to, I decided to take a nap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> of their nails hurt more than they should have?” The Radiance asks quietly, though she suspects she already knows the answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No—” Markoth pauses, considering this. Doubt flickers across his face. “Actually… now that you mention it, yes. The last hit any of them landed on me before fleeing like the fools and cowards they were. You don’t think…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do. If none of your wounds were otherwise life-threatening, and then fled as soon as they landed that last hit on you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was poisoned,” Markoth realizes. “What in the name of the Radiance herself—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Radiance startles at this. Her eyes flash gold, briefly, beneath the mask. Markoth, fortunately, does not notice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—did they want to hide </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much</span>
  </em>
  <span> that they couldn’t even fight </span>
  <em>
    <span>fair?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorts, and decides not to enlighten him about the Wyrm’s original corpse somewhere in the general area. “Was there ever anything fair about this kingdom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You make a very compelling argument. But that further begs the question: who </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> lie. She likely </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> lie. But she is… tired of lying. Particularly when someone who might actually side with her on this is concerned. Instead of verbally answering, she closes her eyes and concentrates. Her power might be greatly diminished, but she can at least manage a little light show.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Light shimmers into being behind her, mimicking the sun’s rays that so few bugs have ever seen. She holds it for a moment, just long enough to hear Markoth’s gasp as he </span>
  <em>
    <span>gets it,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and then lets the light fade. The room returns to its previous dullness, ash falling as it always does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That… took more out of her than she thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think,” the Radiance says wearily, “you can figure it out from there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Markoth nods. He drops to one knee, still looking up at her. “Queen of Light.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I may ask,” Markoth continues, slightly warily, “why do you look like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He… must have died before she began the Infection. Before Holly (and Hornet) had even been thought of. Perhaps before she even knew what was happening to her moths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is,” the Radiance admits, “a </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> story.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the other claw—she can stay a little longer, can’t she? She may not have been there for Markoth in life, not when he needed her most—but she can at least be there for him in death.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>we may or may not be entering headcanon territory here. oops. I blame all the moth feels I've been getting lately</p><p>edit: oops, forgot the tv tropes page. tis here: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ThrowingDownTheGauntlet">Throwing Down the Gauntlet</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Been There, Shaped History</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In a body that isn’t hers, the Radiance shifts her sitting position slightly. Markoth has been kneeling across from her, quite purposefully with his back to his body half-buried in ash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you…” Markoth shifts uneasily. “…telling me that you </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> create us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did,” the Radiance says softly. “But you and your kin were not the first moths I am aware of. You were the second. The first…” Black threatens to leak out from the mask that isn’t hers. She ignores it. “Few gods are </span>
  <em>
    <span>born</span>
  </em>
  <span> gods. Those that are tend to be much more… shall we say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>out of touch</span>
  </em>
  <span> given that they never </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> mortal themselves. Despite his best efforts, the Wyrm who called himself the Pale King was one of those born a god.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You weren’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods a confirmation, then hesitates. After a moment, she declares, “I will show you.” The Radiance reaches out. Beneath the mask, her eyes flash gold. Markoth’s spirit disappears from the material plane. The Radiance’s borrowed body slumps over in a heap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the realm of dreams, she looks more like herself, although the form she takes in dreams would not be ideal for the world outside them. Her gaze finds Markoth, cream-colored ruff and reddish wings shimmering with the essence that marks him as not quite a part of the waking world any longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fly with me,” she says, and takes to the sky. Only once she hears him push off the platform herself does she let it disappear. Below them, she calls up an image from her memories: a land of storms, of wind and rain and the cheerful chirping of so many other moths. Lightning cracks across the sky, but while Markoth shudders uneasily, the moths below don’t seem bothered. In fact, they seem almost excited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Once,” the Radiance continues, “I was an ordinary moth, not unlike you. I had no special powers, nothing save what I was born with—but I had a family, friends. We flew with the storms, and we had our own gods to protect us, and we… we were happy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Markoth says. “What went wrong? Do I… </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to know what went wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t. But you didn’t live it.” The Radiance shrugs as best she can mid-flight, which isn’t very well but gets the sentiment across nonetheless. “One day, we were flying with the storms as we always did. And it all went wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She inclines her head to the right of them, where a different group of moths are flying. Markoth watches with poorly-hidden fear as they fly up, up, up—and then, lightning strikes the frontmost one, and she falls. For a few, horrified seconds, the other moths merely stare, before dropping into dives after their fallen comrade. The now unfriendly lightning cracks after them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moths and the lightning vanish, giving way to a sunnier—yet still windy day. The cliffs and crags, once teeming with moths, are now nearly deserted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our gods had always protected us from the storms,” the Radiance says quietly. “But they were gone. Perhaps they abandoned us. Perhaps they died, or merely faded away. The fact remained that without them, without protection from the lightning, living there would become hopeless. We had to leave, but no one </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to leave. At last, someone decided to do something.“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At her words, a couple of moths stumble out from the shade of the crags: one with an off-white ruff and wings, and one with a grey ruff and almost black wings. The two moths take to the skies, flying up between where the Radiance and Markoth are watching. Below, more moths peer out from the safety of shade. One of the ones staying behind waves cautiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You would know them today by different names, but then, they were only Soleil and her little brother Grimm.” The Radiance smiles, despite herself. “Their mission was to find something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> that could help their kin. Whether that something was the gods that were gone, or new gods that could protect them, or even a new home—whatever it was, it was all up to them to find it before it was too late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did they?” Markoth asks in a small voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suspect you already know the answer. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> find something. Perhaps by accident, or perhaps it was meant to be: the dying God of Dreams. Perhaps it was simply by sheer proximity, or perhaps he chose them in his final moments, but the fact remained: together, the two siblings took his place and ascended. Today, you would know Grimm as the Nightmare King, and Soleil—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As the Radiance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Correct.” She ruffles her feathers, and the scene changes once again. The two moths, still appearing </span>
  <em>
    <span>mostly</span>
  </em>
  <span> the same as they did, returning to the land of storms and their kin. “We returned home, confident that we had the power to restore our old way of life. We would have succeeded, if our home hadn’t been deserted. There was no sign of </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone,</span>
  </em>
  <span> no sign of where they had gone, no trail to follow. We searched… but never found them again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The land of storms gives way to a more familiar landscape: the little town of Dirtmouth, from above. “We parted ways after that. Grimm was unwilling to give up when I did, so he kept searching—but, eventually, he gave up too. He took on the mantle of the Nightmare Heart, and formed a troupe I suspect you have at least heard of. I created moths anew, and… you already know the rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the blink of an eye, neither of them are flying any longer, but instead standing on a platform. More accurately, Markoth is, while the Radiance is hovering a short distance above the ground due to her dream form’s notable lack of functional legs.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Markoth says solemnly. “I took up a Dreamshield and came here... well, not here </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but the edge of the kingdom, for a reason. I wish I had been strong enough to do what I came to do. I wish I had </span>
  <em>
    <span>known</span>
  </em>
  <span>—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish you had fled before it was too late,” the Radiance replies. “At least then you might have survived.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Markoth shrugs noncommittally. “I died well. That’s all anyone can hope for.” Despite his words, there is still a hint of hope in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry,” she says. “I do not have the power I once did. I cannot create my kin anew, this time. Nor can I restore you and the others to life.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I… guessed as much.” To his credit, Markoth manages not to sound too disappointed. “Well, I will not be going anywhere anytime soon. If I may be so bold?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are never </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> bold, with your words,” the Radiance points out. “I appreciate that more than you realize.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I shall quite happily continue to do so.” Markoth fluffs proudly and continues, “If you are stuck in the body of this… vessel…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Their name was Holly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Markoth nods. “What are you going to do now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So used she is to having a mask on concealing all trace of emotion that she forgets to hide her apprehension when she admits, “I do not know.”</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Radiance opens the door to the Dirtmouth house and </span>
  <em>
    <span>immediately</span>
  </em>
  <span> has a needle pointed at her mask. A needle whose bearer takes one look at her and immediately returns said needle to her back, and tries very hard not to look relieved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re back,” Hornet says. “I was beginning to worry. Did you find them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somewhere in her rather long chat with the ghost of a moth barely out of pupation, both her actual reasons for going back down and the written excuse she’d left for Hornet had slipped her mind. They come rushing back now. In retrospect, maybe she should have at </span>
  <em>
    <span>least</span>
  </em>
  <span> searched a little harder for the Wyrm’s palace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wordlessly shakes her head. “I may have gotten slightly lost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>wondering</span>
  </em>
  <span> why you didn’t take the map. I suppose you know better now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance isn’t entirely sure if, in this form, there even </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> eyes beneath the mask. If she has them currently, she rolls them. “I certainly do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Out of curiosity… where did you find yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am… not sure of the name,” she says, truthfully. “It was east of the City of Tears. There was something like ash on the wind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Armored corpses falling down from above?” Hornet asks. “That would be Kingdom’s Edge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I want to know </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> dead bugs are dropping steadily from above?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would be the aptly named Colosseum of Fools, where bugs fight to the death for fun and profit. I used to know their champion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s such poorly hidden sadness in that last part that Radiance can’t help but ask, “Used to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Hornet says, “if she isn’t champion any longer, she’s dead. So it doesn’t matter, I suppose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shut </span>
  <em>
    <span>up.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>every</span>
  </em>
  <span> bug I’m friends with is secretly crushing on me. Nor am I secretly in love with them.” Hornet pauses. “Well, Nem and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> have a brief thing before she became champion of the Colosseum, but—that is </span>
  <em>
    <span>thoroughly</span>
  </em>
  <span> beside the point!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe you just </span>
  <em>
    <span>proved</span>
  </em>
  <span> my point.”</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two new bugs emerge from the well a few days later, or perhaps it’s a few weeks. Time is difficult to keep track of when you are doing nothing but offering suggestions to Hornet on where to look for her missing sibling—</span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span> suggestions, because she realizes now that Hornet is likely to go alone and does not want to risk her encountering the Lord of Shades unawares.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of them is hooded, probably an ant, with a wilted white flower tucked into his hood and a battered shield held on his arm. The other is a pillbug, sporting a blue bandanna tucked around his head and tied neatly behind, and a sharpened nail at his hip. Both of them look as exhausted as the Radiance feels—which could be a side effect of a very much </span>
  <em>
    <span>non-</span>
  </em>
  <span>Void being stuck in the body of a creature of Void, or could merely be due to all the things she can’t talk to anyone about. Or both. Both is always an option.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ant is Tiso, and sounds suspiciously like he’d get along a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> well with Markoth. If Radiance had a way to break or otherwise bypass the Void gate, and if Markoth was not dead and a ghost, and if she didn’t know full well that only those wielding the power of gods can see ghosts. Still, they would get along. Or they’d kill each other. One of the two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pillbug is Quirrel, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Radiance has seen before, though not in person. She did not see him leave Hallownest with nothing but a mask and a nail, for that was when the seals still held and Holly had been enough to keep her wrath contained. She did, however, see him return through the eyes of the Infected he cut down without a thought, and she recognized the mask he’d carried long before he himself did. He no longer bears that mask now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(She wonders, sometimes, whether Monomon had known in the end, what she had sacrificed everything to save. If that was why she called her apprentice back.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Under different circumstances, Radiance thinks she would have liked Monomon.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elderbug is thrilled to have more habitants in town. Sly, a bug whose thoughts seem to consist entirely of money, is thrilled for entirely different reasons. Bretta is shy as usual, and easily embarrassed, and sticks to Hornet’s side like weaversilk—and Hornet thinks the girl’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> embarrassed by her. Yes. Clearly that’s all there is to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet, meanwhile, recognizes Quirrel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quirrel clearly recognizes Hornet, and—judging by the taken aback look when he sees Radiance—knows a vessel when he sees one. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Especially</span>
  </em>
  <span> this one. That could be a problem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You remember why you came to Hallownest,” Hornet greets. It’s not a question, merely a statement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quirrel nods. “Yes. As well as… other things, besides.” He grips one arm with another and averts his gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tiso slings his free arm around Quirrel and says, in a way that could almost not be a threat, “You know each other?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Know</span>
  </em>
  <span> is a bit much for it,” Hornet admits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She did try to kill me.” Quirrel almost sounds bemused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I try to kill everyone. You are not special.” Hornet considers this and adds, “And I stopped once I realized who you were, and why you were returning to this hollowed-out shell of a kingdom. As for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Tiso blinks. “Who, me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should not have gotten over the cliffs without my knowledge. I know your type—Hallownest does </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> need more </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanderers</span>
  </em>
  <span> getting themselves </span>
  <em>
    <span>killed.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Uh.” Tiso blinks again. “Tried death, didn’t take. Didn’t enjoy it very much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Tiso</span>
  </em>
  <span>—” Quirrel groans at what seems to be an inside joke only he and Tiso know the context of. “Well, I suppose he likely arrived while you were chasing down that poor little—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ghost. That’s what they prefer being called. They are our sibling.” Hornet gestures at Radiance and herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you would be…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holly.” Hornet pats her hesitantly on the arm. “They’ve been through a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can imagine,” Quirrel says, though he doesn’t have to. “My utmost condolences, though my heart is less heavy knowing you survived Her wrath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance’s heart, on the other hand, is even heavier. She nods wordlessly. Sometimes, being assumed to be voiceless has its distinct perks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If only Holly was here, too.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>We interrupt your regularly scheduled Radiangst to bring you: gay bugs. <i>More</i> gay bugs, in any case--assume everyone is some variety of queer unless explicitly stated otherwise. In case you doubted that this takes place in the same continuity as Wilted Flower... see? Tiso is fine! Quirrel? FINE. I don't like killing characters off unnecessarily, after all.</p><p>Meanwhile, some of how the Radiance described her original home may sound vaguely familiar. You're welcome to make guesses/theories, though I can't say I'll confirm nor deny any ones that get close.</p><p>TV Tropes page: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/BeenThereShapedHistory">Been There, Shaped History</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Playing with Fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The day Hornet decides to search Ancient Basin is the day that the Radiance tries, very hard, to accompany her. But, supposedly, Hornet’s way down is too tight for ‘Holly’ to fit, she’d be faster alone, and Ghost will be less likely to attack her on sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those aren’t the only excuses Hornet has, merely the most prominent ones. It boils down, in the end, to Hornet being worried about the sibling she thinks she still has. Which is fine! Completely!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance merely does not trust the Lord of Shades to even </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> someone they would have formerly laid down their weapons for. Ascending to godhood is never easy, and certainly not as easy as she pretended it was for Markoth’s sake. Those difficulties are only magnified in the case of the Lord of Shades.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She still remembers the last one. She couldn’t forget the last one if she tried. Compared to the last one, the latest incarnation of the Void is nothing—and that is still considering that they are almost certainly the one in control of her Infection, now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is why she finds Bretta, not long after Hornet’s left, and asks, “Do you wish to go after her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Escorting Hornet’s somehow-not-yet-girlfriend, after all, is an excuse she is </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> than willing to leverage. It’s an excuse that comes back to bite her when she leaves Bretta alone for five minutes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>five minutes,</span>
  </em>
  <span> while dealing with those bugs under the thrall of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>new</span>
  </em>
  <span> Infection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The </span>
  <em>
    <span>new</span>
  </em>
  <span> Infection that, Radiance is sure of it, is quite like the old if you replace burning orange with inky black, and if you consider the fact that </span>
  <em>
    <span>she is no longer in control.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>If the Infection is no longer her control, she can’t snap bugs out of it, nor shield those she cares about from the worst of its side effects. It is running uncontrolled—</span>
  <em>
    <span>probably</span>
  </em>
  <span> not contagious, which is a step up from what hers had been like—but there were </span>
  <em>
    <span>so many infected already.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And now she’s lost Bretta. Hornet is going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill</span>
  </em>
  <span> her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(She’s immensely relieved when, ten minutes later, she runs into Hornet escorting Bretta back to the surface. She is much </span>
  <em>
    <span>less</span>
  </em>
  <span> relieved when the grub Hornet is carrying unfurls wings of black and red. His eyes flash that same fiery red when he sees her.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(It takes exactly two seconds for her little brother to recognize her, start hissing, and spit flames at her face.)</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will be right back,” Radiance tells Hornet. She grabs Grimm (technically Grimm</span>
  <em>
    <span>child</span>
  </em>
  <span>) by the scruff of the neck and adds, “Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span> to work things out while I’m gone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t hold out much hope that it will click for Hornet that Bretta has a crush, nor that Bretta will actually act on her crush, but getting them talking alone is a start. And, on a more important note, it gives her time to drag a hissing, spitting </span>
  <em>
    <span>little</span>
  </em>
  <span> brother out of Dirtmouth until they’re far enough away that they (she, mostly) will not be heard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She releases him almost at the base of the cliffs, positioning herself quite strategically between him and Dirtmouth, and says, “Is it Grimmchild currently, or Grimm? Do you have a preference?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her little brother hisses and spits fire. She blocks it with Holly’s nail and continues, “Grimm</span>
  <em>
    <span>child</span>
  </em>
  <span> it is, since you continue to act like one. May we hold a civil conversation? I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>happily</span>
  </em>
  <span> do the talking for both of us, since if you were able to talk you would have told Hornet who I really was by now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimmchild sticks his tongue out at her with a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>nyeh!</span>
  </em>
  <span> But he doesn’t keep attempting (and failing) to set her on fire. That’s progress. Or possibly he’s just out of energy to keep spitting fire in her direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nevertheless, she sighs, and shakes her head. “Is this any way to treat your own sister?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nyeh,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Grimmchild says angrily. His eyes glow brighter. He hovers a little higher in the air, wings flapping harder to keep him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t keep that up for long. You’ve been in that form for what, a month at most?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimmchild flaps even harder. He manages to make it to eye level before his wings give out. He drops like a stone. On instinct and nothing more, she disappears with a flash of gold and a swish of feathers, and reappears two feet in front of where she’d been to catch him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her brother does not seem to appreciate her help. He bites her hand, hard, and refuses to let go. It barely even hurts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance sighs louder. “Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> mad about the business with the Wyrm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His fangs dig in deeper, as if to say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes, of course I’m still mad about that!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Careful. Wouldn’t want to catch Void sickness, now, would you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her brother unlatches himself </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> fast that he nearly falls again. He rights himself before hitting the ground, though, and headbutts her chest meaningfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or… not </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re mad about Holly?” She guesses tentatively, and gets an angry chirp in response. “I will tell you my side </span>
  <em>
    <span>once,</span>
  </em>
  <span> although I know better than to expect you to listen, never mind believe me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> did not kill them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimmchild chirps dubiously. Of course he wouldn’t even believe that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what did. Not for sure. There is a new Lord of Shades. They have taken over the Infection, and while I cannot be certain, they must have done </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> to the real Holly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That conclusion is at least one she can live with. Better than the alternative, that they had done nothing to Holly and the doomed Hollow Knight had disappeared willingly. And yet somehow, Grimmchild sounds even more dubious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what?” Radiance crosses her arms. “I don’t care what you think anymore. Perhaps I never should have, but the fact remains that I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did,</span>
  </em>
  <span> once, and clearly I was a fool to. You can’t tell her, or anyone. You can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and I will be </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> gone by the time you can. Keep letting your poor taste cloud your judgment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this, Grimmchild </span>
  <em>
    <span>nyehs</span>
  </em>
  <span> indignantly—but the Radiance leaves without another word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(The part of her that still answers to Soleil cries.)</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Radiance has barely reentered Dirtmouth when her arm is grabbed by a rather flustered-looking Hornet, who tugs her aside with a whispered, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Help.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>This was absolutely not what she was expecting. “With… what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With—” Hornet looks around, and hisses, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Where</span>
  </em>
  <span> is Grimm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t dump him into a spike pit, if that is what you are asking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet gives her a dubious look. “I am not asking that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still somewhere that way. He is slower than I.” This is not entirely accurate, even in his current diminished form, as Grimm can teleport. However, the fact that he has not means that he is flying back, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> fly slower than she can walk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dubious look only intensifies, but Hornet apparently decides to let it go for now. She mumbles something inaudible, then raises her head and says, quietly, “It’s Bretta.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For the last time—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s in love with me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” Radiance looks at her. “She finally said something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet groans. “Did </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> know about this before I did? Tiso laughed and wished me luck. Quirrel </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretended</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be surprised but he… </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> was not very good at it. Sly tried to sell me some lantern or something to give her before I told him anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You asked Sly for advice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>desperate.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Let me live. Even </span>
  <em>
    <span>Elderbug</span>
  </em>
  <span> seemed surprised that we weren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>already,</span>
  </em>
  <span> um…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Together?” Radiance offers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. That. I haven’t even talked to Cornifer or Iselda, but I’m willing to bet that </span>
  <em>
    <span>they</span>
  </em>
  <span> somehow know too!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Most likely. In fairness, Bretta is far from </span>
  <span>subtle</span>
  <em>
    <span>.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“She was subtle enough for me to miss it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Subtle as a brick to the face. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> been telling you about it for—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Weeks, I know.” Hornet groans louder. “But what do I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>For a few moments, she doesn’t see Hornet, but someone else. A little black-ruffed moth, pacing around their home and progressively panicking more and more over a boy with a beautiful scarlet ruff and such supposedly captivating eyes. She hadn’t seen the appeal, but she </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> tried to encourage him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm had been like Hornet, once, panicking over the mere idea of intimacy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm hadn’t hated her, once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you like her?” Radiance says at last.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes? She is humorous, and a little timid, but once you get her out of her shell—so to </span>
  <em>
    <span>speak,</span>
  </em>
  <span> do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> give me that look! She can be startlingly brave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is a start. Do you like her the way she likes you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That,” Hornet says helplessly, “is what I am unsure of.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> had a serious relationship before? Or at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>a</span>
  </em>
  <span> relationship?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I have! But it wasn’t really… like this? I don’t know, Nem and I were sparring together and she managed to beat me exactly once, and she said… it is not important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, keep going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet sighs. Quieter and faster, she says, “She pinned me to the ground and started taunting me by asking if I wanted her to kiss me better, and then I pulled up my mask and kissed her, this was before she started wearing a helmet, and then we um. Sort of. Anyway! How do you even know anything about this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Radiance freezes. Right. Holly </span>
  <em>
    <span>wouldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> know anything about romance, or relationships that weren’t horribly unhealthy and concerned them being treated like a useful tool at best and an object to be discarded easily at worst.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… was not entirely unaware of what went on between… our father, and his queen.” She clamps her mouth shut before she can keep going on about how horrible the Wyrm really was, to the one he claimed to share his life with and in general, and goes on, “And I am not blind. We have been living in Dirtmouth for some time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was the time she tried to stop in Iselda’s shop, only to be met with the tip of Iselda’s nail-lance held in one claw and her husband held in the other. And the time where she unintentionally walked in on what she’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>expected</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be Quirrel and Tiso sparring with </span>
  <em>
    <span>weapons</span>
  </em>
  <span> and not with </span>
  <em>
    <span>mandibles</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My advice, which you should consider carefully given my… situation,” which isn’t at all the situation Hornet believes it is, “is to take things slow, but try nonetheless. If you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> it will not work, do not lead her on. But if you believe there to be a chance…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll try,” Hornet promises. “This is… </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> different, but… I will try.” She looks away. “Right now, I think I will go find Grimm before he gets himself into trouble.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance does not comment on the futility of that, instead raises a hand to wave goodbye as Hornet rapidly absconds from a conversation far more difficult than it needed to be. Keeping Grimm out of trouble is like keeping a mawlek from brooding, or a moth from flying, or a wyrm from conquering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s only in his nature, after all. Just like it is only in his nature to chase after a pretty face, with no thought as to what that pretty face has done, is doing, and will continue to do should no one stop him. Just like it is only in his nature to </span>
  <em>
    <span>betray</span>
  </em>
  <span> instead of trusting the word of the one bug who has always been there for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just like it is only in his nature to not be there for his sister in her darkest hour, and to turn up weeks late with a chip on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two can play at that game, childish though it is. The Radiance has nothing better to do than determine what to do with her brother before he can expose her. Except, perhaps, determine what to do with the Lord of Shades.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If</span>
  </em>
  <span> she can do anything about the Lord of Shades.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>GRIMM(child) IS HERE! fuckin FINALLY I'm sure nothing about this will turn out terrible at all. nope.</p><p>tv tropes page: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/PlayingWithFire">Playing with Fire</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Living a Double Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I do believe we’ve searched every inch of Hallownest, Deepnest, Greenpath, the Hive...” Hornet exhales wearily, two arms pinning her map to the table. “Barring the Abyss, of course—but Grimm, you’re certain they weren’t down there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimmchild, several months older and about twice the size he was, chirps an assent. He’s curled up in the chair that Bretta got up from for approximately two seconds. The girl turns around with a sigh, kneels in front of him, and says seriously, “Sir, may I please transfer you to my lap? Is this an acceptable arrangement?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimmchild considers this, then nods wordlessly. He loops himself around Bretta’s shell like an oversized flying worm, then slithers into her lap once she sits down and continues glaring at the Radiance. Just as he always does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance glares back. She will not be intimidated by a child throwing a perpetual temper tantrum, no matter how much of his temper he tantrums.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s possible,” Hornet says uneasily, “that they may not be </span>
  <em>
    <span>in</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hallownest any longer. Quirrel has told me of kingdoms beyond Hallownest—yes, our father lied about that, he clearly did not give </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> bugs sentience—”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyone with two braincells to rub together could have told you that,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Radiance does not say. She does, however, snort derisively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—but it is entirely possible that Ghost found a way out of Hallownest entirely, or something else forced them out. The nearest kingdom is in roughly… that direction.” A third arm draws her needle out and jabs it roughly to the west. “It is a place called Pharloom. It is… the original homeland of the weavers. It is </span>
  <em>
    <span>possible</span>
  </em>
  <span> that they are there, but if they are not… my... mother told me stories, long ago, of a goddess who wished to weave the world together. She succeeded, though at great cost, and it is said she can locate anything. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Or,</span>
  </em>
  <span> more importantly, anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think she can find Ghost?” Bretta asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know she can. But I will have to find her first.” Hornet sighs. “The problem is that Pharloom is not a short journey, and it will not be easy to find her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bretta’s eyes go wide. She stops petting Grimmchild, much to his vocal displeasure. “How… long?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A month’s journey, one way. If it is the only way to find our sibling again… then how can I not go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The beetle’s antennae quiver slightly. She picks up Grimmchild, stands, and walks over to Radiance with a single question: “Hold this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She does not wait for an answer, and instead drops Grimmchild into her single remaining arm. Neither of them are happy with this arrangement, but fortunately Grimmchild is too focused on Hornet and Bretta at the moment to </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> complain, and for that matter he is not the only one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, you…” Bretta holds Hornet’s mask in her claws, and presses her head to Hornet’s mask. “You’d better come back. There are a lot of bugs here who care a lot about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Including you,” Hornet says. It’s not a question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Including me, but you knew that. Just… be careful. Come back to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will,” Hornet promises, and she promises again just before setting off. When she does the second time, she pulls up her mask, leans in, and touches her mandibles gently to Bretta’s. She whispers something inaudible, then pulls her mask back down and nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, and a final wave to ‘Holly,’ she sets off at a run for the cliffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did she say?” Radiance asks. “If… it’s not too personal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimmchild hisses at her. Radiance ignores him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, nothing…” Bretta blushes. “She told me that was something to remember her by. D-do you think, she feels the way I do? About her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance thinks back to nights of pacing, and gay panic, and excuses made to spend time with Bretta. “If she doesn’t, she is a better actress than even she believes herself to be.”</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night, the Radiance attempts—for the first time seriously—to leave Holly’s body and recreate her own. Or even—Light and Void, she would settle for walking among dreams again, not bound to a body. Perhaps then she can figure out something. And, in any case, she would at least have until Hornet returns to come up with what happened to the real Holly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She has a perfect mental image of what she wants to look like—strikingly similar to her mortal form. Enough fluff to drown in, wings that will carry her far above and away from this mess and the brother who chose everything but her, and burning gold eyes. Most important, however, is the patch of darker fluff above her eyes. Not easily recognizable, but if anyone wants her to fully give up her crown, they will have to kill her first, outside of the realm of dreams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She has a perfect mental image of what she wants to look like, and usually, that is enough for the Goddess of Dreams. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is not enough. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Something</span>
  </em>
  <span> tethers her here still, and if she didn’t already have her suspicions, it feels the same way the Wyrm’s seals had when they were new. That bastard </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> manages to have the last laugh, even if he may or may not be alive at this point. The Radiance hopes he’s alive, now, simply so she can take a page out of her brother’s book and make him </span>
  <em>
    <span>burn.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But can she even, if she’s stuck here? Because there is no denying that much. She’s stuck in the body of a child, one who never even got the chance to really live. She can clearly walk among dreams if she’s close enough to the dreamer—Markoth proved that much—but first she needs to find </span>
  <em>
    <span>where he’s hidden.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’s hidden. Maybe he’s dead. Or maybe he didn’t resort to the dream realm at all, but hiding himself in a dream to escape the extremely pissed off </span>
  <em>
    <span>Goddess of Dreams</span>
  </em>
  <span> would be exactly the type of endlessly hypocritical and bafflingly foolish choice the Wyrm would make.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She is stuck here. At least until </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> seal breaks, too. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>possible</span>
  </em>
  <span> that if Holly’s body dies, Radiance will be forcefully ejected from it and freed—but it’s also equally possible that she will die with it. And, regardless, destroying Holly’s body is a last resort. That is the only thing left of them, after all, and if things were to go sour with Hornet upon her return...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Wyrm’s last child has been through enough from her unfortunate parentage alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, she must keep hiding, and biding her time. The only thing she can do is keep up the metaphorical mask, and hope that she figures out </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> before it slips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or before Grimm learns how to talk again, because she’s under no illusions about </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> intentions. Forget the mask slipping, if Grimm has his way, he’ll yank it right off.</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It has been approximately a month. Hornet should have arrived in Pharloom by now. Which means, if all goes well and she finds her weaver goddess quickly, she will not return for at least another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimmchild continues to grow, and not in a fashion that </span>
  <em>
    <span>remotely</span>
  </em>
  <span> resembles a moth’s typical growth, which begs the question of what exactly the Nightmare Heart did to him so long ago. Grimm, however, is not currently in a position to answer, nor would he be likely to answer her questions if he could, nor does the Radiance particularly care about his development save where matters of speech are concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is also, of course, the small issue of him recognizing her on sight. That </span>
  <em>
    <span>might</span>
  </em>
  <span> have been simply because of that frayed yet not entirely broken bond of family, or it might have been due to him simply being able to recognize the power of another god and connecting the dots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That is part of why the Radiance finds herself wandering through Greenpath, the leafy caverns a far cry from what they once were. Nearly all of the Mosskin are infected to some degree, but even the visibly blackened largely ignore her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course they do. As far as they are aware, she is just like them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They do not, however, ignore the fiery child attempting to be stealthy behind her. Halfway to the lake, she sighs, turns, and says, “You can come out now. I knew you were there </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span> you nearly set a solid third of Greenpath aflame.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is a testament to how seriously Grimm is taking this—or how strongly he dislikes her at the moment—that he physically comes out immediately, without any jokes about already </span>
  <em>
    <span>being</span>
  </em>
  <span> out, thank you very much. Part of that is undoubtedly due to his current lack of a voice, but the point still stands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometime in the last month, he started to regrow his arms and legs. They are currently formless nubs, hence his usual flight or hanging onto someone bigger, but he could absolutely still walk with them if he tried. Probably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It occurs to Radiance, then, just how little she actually knows about the process of her brother’s rebirth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She does not ask, and she certainly does not want to. Instead, she asks, “Is there a </span>
  <em>
    <span>reason</span>
  </em>
  <span> you decided to follow me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimmchild hisses at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will take that as either </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> or </span>
  <em>
    <span>I have no intentions of telling you what it is.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” She shrugs. “I am going to pay Unn a long overdue visit. You are welcome to accompany me, though I sincerely doubt she will appreciate you burning up all her foliage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He narrows his eyes at her, but does not spit any more fire. Not now, and not for the rest of the trip to Unn’s lake. When they arrive, Radiance takes a seat on the edge of her pier, legs dangling. Grimmchild hovers for a moment and then settles in a heap on the edge as well, as far away as he can get from his unbeloved sister.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Unn,” Radiance says quietly. “It has been a long time. Can you hear me? Do you… remember me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For what feels like eternity, there is no answer. Then, the acid burbles. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>might</span>
  </em>
  <span> have imagined it. Or something (Unn, who else) might have burbled a greeting from somewhere within it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unn?” She calls, this time louder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The acid burbles louder in response. She cannot be certain, </span>
  <em>
    <span>but</span>
  </em>
  <span> that sounded almost like the words, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hello there.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimmchild visibly perks up. He chirps a greeting as well. As he does, the acid lake ripples, then quakes, and then—something surfaces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some</span>
  <em>
    <span>one,</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the form of a giant green slug. This is Unn, goddess of greenery and of generosity, goddess of Greenpath before the Wyrm </span>
  <em>
    <span>stole</span>
  </em>
  <span> half of it. Her eyestalks lower slightly as she blinks. Slowly. Heavily. Sleepily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks very, very sleepy. Looking </span>
  <em>
    <span>somewhat</span>
  </em>
  <span> sleepy is not uncharacteristic for her. Looking like she’s just woken up from a centuries-long nap—and isn’t entirely awake even now—is </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely the fuck not normal.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What… happened to you?” Radiance asks, though she knows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unn burbles wordlessly. At last, she murmurs, “Took a nap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean to tell me you have been asleep for </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> long?” The only response Radiance gets is extremely noncommittal. “You don’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>know?</span>
  </em>
  <span> I should have checked on you more often, I should have—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Unn!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The giant slug, whose head and eyestalks had started drooping, visibly perks up. “Sorry. Tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never would have noticed,” Radiance says dryly. “Do you even know the Wyrm is dead?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Unn and Grimm visibly start at that. Grimm starts hissing. At Radiance, of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is… what</span>
  <em>
    <span>?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps not </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I don’t know for sure, and we all know it is… </span>
  <em>
    <span>difficult,</span>
  </em>
  <span> to truly kill a god that does not wish to be killed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exhibit A: The Radiance, Goddess of Light and Dreams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exhibit B: The Lord of Shades.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But his influence is waning,” Radiance continues with no small amount of satisfaction. “He is being forgotten, the same way he ensured </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> would be. If he is still alive, he will </span>
  <em>
    <span>wish</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hrmm,” Unn says. And then, “He is not the only forgotten god in these caves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not. I was—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was not referring to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Unn sinks a little lower in her pool, it occurs to the Radiance exactly who she </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> talking about, although </span>
  <em>
    <span>occur</span>
  </em>
  <span> is a rather mild word for it. A more accurate description would be that the realization hits her like one of those stag beetles pressed into service for the fleeting desires of other bugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” The shoulders of her borrowed body slump. “I am sorry. I should have been there for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You had your own problems. Or perhaps… still?” Unn squints at her, as if only now actually seeing what she currently looks like. “What are you doing in that form?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Believe me, this was not my idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm chirps dubiously. Radiance glares at him. “If I had </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> way in this situation, I would be in my own body again, and the Wyrm’s foolish child would still be </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“He had </span>
  <em>
    <span>children?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Unn seems very surprised at this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, and he… that is not important right now. Though I know better than to think I can put off explaining what you have missed for very long. Grimm, of course, is a much better storyteller than I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm’s eyes flash in a manner that clearly means something along the lines of </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop patronizing me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Not an unfamiliar look, but once it hadn’t held such malice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—but he is currently incapable of intelligible speech, and his account would undoubtedly be horrifically biased in favor of the Wyrm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Grimmchild hisses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yours, I am sure, would not be biased at all,” Unn agrees slowly, with the most sarcasm Radiance has heard from her… ever, actually.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I</span>
  </em>
  <span> am willing to </span>
  <em>
    <span>admit</span>
  </em>
  <span> that I have my biases. He is not. Nor could he admit this, if he ever would.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Unn says. “Tell me everything.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oops Unn is here now</p><p>And because Silksong is apparently not a prequel (though it would make more sense if it was) we gotta get that out of the way offscreen. Can't ship Hornet and Bretta <i>and Lace</i> if no one has ever met Lace.</p><p>TV Tropes page: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/LivingADoubleLife">Living a Double Life</a>. I kind of regret naming chapters after relevant TV Tropes pages but I can't exactly stop now can I</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Remembered I Could Fly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You glow,” Unn says simply when finally asked how she had recognized the Radiance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance, of course, visibly bristles at that. Grimmchild starts cackling. She resists the urge to trip him into the acid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not like that,” Unn continues, looking faintly bemused. “Not like him. In the way all gods do, on a level that only others like us can see, and only if they are </span>
  <em>
    <span>looking.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You glow gold. Grimm glows red. I cannot know for </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but I suspect I glow green.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Radiance eyes the greenery around them. “How would I ever have guessed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unn snorts. “Not on a physical level, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>literally</span>
  </em>
  <span> glowing like you can outside that body or how the Wyrm does… did?” She yawns. “It’s complicated. I’m tired. Can I go back to sleep now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In a moment,” Radiance says, although a not insignificant part of her fears that if Unn goes back to sleep she’ll never see her again. “Am </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> the only god who </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> know how to look?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quite possibly.” Unn hums to herself. “Root could, if she is still around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance remembers mantises, split from the original group. The lower part of Greenpath, taken by the Wyrm and the Root and the beautiful wilderness erased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She remembers one of the Wyrm’s precious knights, failing at her final task and succumbing to her wounds. She remembers the mantises, on her orders, waiting for the Root to emerge when she never did. They still were waiting when the little vessel—Ghost—cut them down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is,” Radiance says thoughtfully. “And </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> was compliant in much of what the Wyrm did, including this child’s fate. If I turned up like this…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimmchild gives a warning chirp. She ignores him and continues, “It may not actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>accomplish</span>
  </em>
  <span> anything, but it would be worth it to see the look on her face alone when she sees </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> and realizes that despite everything, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m still here.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have fun with that.” Unn yawns again, and sinks lower into the lake until only her eyestalks are visible. “I’ll be here. Wake me up if anything happens with the Lord of Shades.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean if the Lord of Shades releases your mosskin?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. I’m going to take a nap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Another</span>
  </em>
  <span> nap?” Radiance stands at that. Fear creeps into her words as she shouts, “You just </span>
  <em>
    <span>took</span>
  </em>
  <span> a nap! What if you don’t wake up again? What if—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she’s yelling at a calm, unbroken surface of acid, one she knows better than to think she can get through. Radiance sighs. Her head lowers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed you,” she tells the lake. Unn does not answer. She doesn’t know why she expected her to. She does not regret freeing bugs from the Wyrm’s thrall through Infection, and never will—but only now has she realized that it wasn’t freedom at all, but another kind of control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Void Infection, after all, isn’t contagious. It only affects those who were already infected by </span>
  <em>
    <span>her.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She does not apologize, for it will go unheard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a questioning chirp, Grimmchild cocks his head. He doesn’t need to be able to speak for her to understand </span>
  <em>
    <span>that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” she tells her brother.</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grimmchild has either given up and gone back to Dirtmouth, or is attempting to follow her again—but judging by the notable lack of things being set on fire in her wake, Radiance would hazard a guess that he’s tired of following her. Alternatively, the last thing he wants is to be anywhere near the Root.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance can relate. The Root may have become a victim herself, in the end—but for a long time before that, she was an accomplice. Willingly or not, she contributed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only blameless god in this mess is Unn, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> is because she slept through the crimes of the others. The worst were, obviously, committed by the Wyrm himself. The Root helped him and took much of Unn’s territory for her </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gardens</span>
  </em>
  <span> when </span>
  <em>
    <span>Unn</span>
  </em>
  <span> was there </span>
  <em>
    <span>first,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Unn of course had never been confrontational enough to take it </span>
  <em>
    <span>back</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Grimm had…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...well…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm had either spontaneously lost all his critical thinking skills after meeting the Wyrm—which is possible—</span>
  <em>
    <span>or</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was only an accomplice too. It is clear which of these is the more likely scenario, and it is not the one Radiance would prefer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> easier to believe that her brother simply misunderstands, somehow, than that he would side with the likes of the Wyrm with all the information at his wingtips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet, for a god of nightmares, Grimm is rarely in the dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance herself is far from blameless, but her actions, at least, were justified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She is merely the last bug alive to remember why. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While the Wyrm was the worst, he is either dead or otherwise unavailable for revenge, and Grimm is currently a child. An exceptionally </span>
  <em>
    <span>irritating</span>
  </em>
  <span> child, but still a child, and unlike a certain Wyrm, she does </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> hurt children.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next best option, then, is the Root. She will recognize the Radiance, and she will recognize whose body she is in. Assuming, of course, that she </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> actually still alive—but Unn is rarely wrong about these things, or ever, really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(She missed her. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> misses her.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though the lower part of Greenpath has had some time to recover from what the Root did to it, there are still thorns </span>
  <em>
    <span>everywhere</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and platforms that fall out from under one’s feet within moments of stepping upon them, and did she mention the </span>
  <em>
    <span>thorns?</span>
  </em>
  <span> The Root’s idea of greenery puts the Wyrm’s idea of architecture to shame, and that’s honestly saying something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance isn’t sure how anyone lived in the Wyrm’s city </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span> her Infection. Who would be comfortable with </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> many spikes around? For that matter, who would be comfortable with this many thorns around?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be comfortable. Perhaps it was meant to be beautiful, instead, but it failed even at that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Unn</span>
  </em>
  <span> is comfort and beauty. This place, what the Root has done to it, is </span>
  <em>
    <span>neither.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It was never meant to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>gardens.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The wilderness will reclaim it someday, Unn’s vines choking out the thorns and breaking down the platforms. Nature always does, though it will not be anytime soon. And if the Root is still here…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance walks through a room she recognizes, the stone floor broken open. She glances, briefly, at two freshly-dug graves—one larger than the other, one with a club lying atop it, both with little white flowers growing upon them—and looks away. She knows what happened here. One little vessel walked away. The lord of the exiled mantises and a brave, club-wielding cicada warrior did not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She dips her head, still looking away, and continues. The Root cannot be far. And yet, the caverns she stole are far from easy to navigate. The Root </span>
  <em>
    <span>cannot</span>
  </em>
  <span> be far, and yet the Radiance does not find any sign of her easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What she </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> find, is a totem bearing the visage of a bug. A caterpillar, possibly, though difficult to tell just from the face. She kneels before it, runs a hand along the inscription.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Protector of root and leaf, we honor you,</span>
  </em>
  <span> it reads in the Wyrm’s bastardized script. Which seems innocuous enough, except…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Protector?” She says aloud. “I should have heard of that. That…”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Cannot be right,</span>
  </em>
  <span> is what she would continue with, but it is then that a ghost shimmers into view, curled up at the base of the totem. Green, mostly, with a yellow underbelly, but most importantly: a caterpillar, a child, but not just </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>moth</span>
  </em>
  <span> caterpillar. And the Radiance sincerely doubts it’s an accident that a moth caterpillar died in the Queen’s Gardens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Does she even know she’s dead?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All questions leave her mind when the child yawns, stretches, and sleepily looks up at her. She blinks blearly, and greets, cheerfully, “Good morning! I’m Marmu! Did the strong stranger send you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Radiance does not inform her that it’s the middle of the afternoon, by her reckoning. “They… did not, no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Marmu lets her head fall back to the ground. She mumbles into the dirt, “I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> tired of waiting…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On that, we can agree.” The Radiance sits down, and adds, “Do you at least know what it is you are waiting for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yes, of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course!</span>
  </em>
  <span> You don’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighs. “Not anymore. What are you waiting for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marmu immediately perks up, bouncing on her feet. She does not seem to realize she’s floating a bit off the ground. “Oh, I’m waiting for the Queen! Soon she’ll return, and she’ll teach me to fly!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Root </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> claimed the title of queen to the Wyrm’s king, hadn’t she? The Radiance had almost forgotten. She would prefer having forgotten. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“She</span>
  </em>
  <span> cannot fly,” the Radiance replies. “I doubt she can walk at the moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a long moment, Marmu gives her a strange look. Then she makes a satisfied noise of understanding. “Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> queen. Everyone </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinks</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m talking about that queen, but I’m not! She’s nice… I guess… but kind of cold. I’m talking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>the</span>
  </em>
  <span> queen. The one that no one else ever knows anything about, but she hasn’t been gone </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> long!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She freezes as it hits her, quite suddenly, like a charge from the mantis lord who died not far from here. Still, she whispers, “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you don’t know who she is either.” Marmu sighs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“No one</span>
  </em>
  <span> does. No one </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> does. I can’t even remember her name, now, but she wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> queen, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> that. It was… Ra…. Rarity...? Radi? No, that isn’t right...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Radiance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The little caterpillar gasps. “Yes! That’s it! You </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> know her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” she confirms. Before she can change her mind, she extends a single Voidmade hand. “I… can teach you to fly. If you would like me to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marmu’s eyes shine. “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But… you don’t have wings, either?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A matter of perspective.” The Radiance smiles behind the mask. “Do you wish it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Marmu says enthusiastically. She takes her hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, with a thought, the Radiance pulls both of them into a dream.</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It is </span>
  <em>
    <span>so nice</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be in her true form again, even if it is only in the mind of the body that will never truly be hers. The Radiance stretches her wings with a contented sigh. She closes her eyes for just a moment—but only a moment, for she is not alone. She turns, and opens her eyes with a warm smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Marmu,” she greets for a second time, this time in her own voice. “I am sorry I kept you waiting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The little caterpillar—for her form has not changed—gasps audibly. “You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>here!</span>
  </em>
  <span> I waited so long, and you’re… you’re actually here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish you hadn’t had to wait.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She really wishes she had been there when she needed her most. When she had died. What kind of a ruler let a child die on her watch? How </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> Marmu even died? Her Infection bypassed moths, and those controlled by it knew not to target them. That, she was sure of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An alternative occurs to her, and she hates it even more. She pushes it to the back of her mind for now. Marmu does not seem to have realized she is dead, and the Radiance is not about to enlighten her to that fact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, she ruffles her feathers and says, lightly, “I do believe you have waited long enough. Let us teach you how to fly, my child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once, she would visit every moth in their dreams, soaring with them through the endless skies of the mind. She had done this before they were moths, when they were but grubs in the nest and then again when they pupated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Marmu never made it that far, and there are no more living moths.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TV Tropes Page: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/RememberedICouldFly">Remembered I Could Fly</a>.</p><p>Oops I've had this sitting around for a hot minute, meant to post it like two days ago and then completely forgot until now. Oh well. I'm feeling a bit better about this chapter now that I've let it sit for a while, so...</p><p>Also: Marmu! Literally the cutest boss in the game, no I do not take constructive criticism. Marmu's existence, however, raises some questions that much of the fandom likes to avoid like the plague <strike>or the Infection, perhaps?</strike> and that's not even getting into the entire Queen's Gardens situation...</p><p>But y'know what? I'm not here to talk lore, I'm here to write a story that is rapidly devolving into "local moth goddess is sad about moths, more at 11." I still can't ignore Marmu if I wanted to, because she's literally a caterpillar. The wiki has decided that the "queen" she's speaking of is the White Lady, but consider: what if she wasn't?</p><p>......I'll stop rambling in the end notes. I have a lot of feelings about this.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Not So Different</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In the realm of dreams, there are </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> rules. With a thought, you can change your appearance, your capabilities—</span>
  <em>
    <span>but</span>
  </em>
  <span> you have to believe it is possible in reality, and you have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> it is a dream to affect yourself, never mind others. That being said, in normal circumstances, you remain within your own dreams, and you </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone</span>
  </em>
  <span> are within your own dreams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are two exceptions. The first is when a god of dreams (or nightmares) is involved. They can pull bugs into and out of their own minds at will, and shape these dreams to their satisfaction—though without sufficient power, their abilities within their own realms will be rather limited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second exception is an artifact dubbed, rather unimaginatively, the Dream Nail. It takes on the form of the current wielder’s chosen weapon—usually a nail, occasionally something else like a staff or needle—and allows the wielder access into the minds of others. Usually this manifests as merely surface-level thoughts, but occasionally the wielder is pulled right in. In this rare instance, they have no power to manipulate the dream, but still possess all the powers and abilities they had outside it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second exception is not applicable here, as the Radiance is unsure of the Dream Nail’s current wielder, though she strongly suspects it was involved in the ascension of the Lord of Shades. The first, however, very much is, and so the god who once answered to Soleil concentrates on the form Marmu would have grown into.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She would have had (could have had) beautiful cream-colored wings, patterned with dark brown swirls. Her ruff could have been (would have been) that same cream, or the dark brown. Thinking of the brother Soleil would have done anything for, once, she opts for the dark brown. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You may open your eyes now,” she tells Marmu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marmu does so. She catches sight of a wing, holds it up, and gasps. Her antennae perk up. “I’m… really going to learn how to fly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are,” the Radiance confirms. “It has been… a </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> long time since I learned to fly, but from what I recall, the hard part is beginning. Once you are in the air, it is much easier to </span>
  <em>
    <span>stay</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the air. Understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so.” Marmu nods. She stretches her wings out to her right and left, shuffles to the edge of the dreammade platform and peers over into the pastel nothingness beyond. “Do I just… jump off…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Well, yes, but—not </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet,</span>
  </em>
  <span> please be careful, you cannot die within this dream but it still is something I would like to avoid.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a thought, her dream form morphs into a more physical one (or at least one with functioning legs.) She strides up to the edge of the platform, spreads her own wings—close to Marmu, but not close enough to whack her with a wing—and takes a deep breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your instincts,” she continues, “will take over once you are in the air, and your wings should flap without thinking about them at all. However, they need a little physical nudge from you to get started. Once you’ve got the hang of it, you can take off from a standing position without much trouble, but to start… watch me, alright? I’ll take a running leap from the edge. Watch what I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marmu nods wordlessly. Her wings fall to her sides again, and her eyes are all but glued to the Radiance. It is with this in mind that she turns her eyes to the ethereal sky, runs, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>leaps.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>As she sails into the air, she beats her wings down, then up again. Once, twice, three times—and then it happens subconsciously. She’d described it to Marmu as directly moving her wings, though that description isn’t entirely accurate. It’s the movement of something else that makes the wings move the way she wants them to. Her thorax contracts as her wings rise, and expands as her wings fall, and this continues even once she’s no longer thinking about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She circles around the platform once, twice, and then alights once more beside Marmu. The Radiance dusts herself off—unnecessarily, there is no dust in the dream realm if she does not desire it there—and turns once again to the little moth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any questions?” She asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um,” Marmu replies, “maybe just one. So I hold my wings up like </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> to start, then run and jump, and right when I jump I beat them down like </span>
  <em>
    <span>this?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Is that… it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it is not automatic immediately, </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t panic,</span>
  </em>
  <span> just keep beating your wings up and down like so until it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marmu looks uneasily over the edge once again. She raises her wings. “And if I… fall?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll catch you,” the Radiance promises. “Are you ready?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Marmu says, and she jumps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Radiance watches her flap. Once. Twice. Thrice. A fourth time, a fifth, and a sixth. Her instincts </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> have kicked in by now, but she’s still flapping herself, the movements getting more jerky with each one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t panic!” Radiance calls, too late. She’s panicking. Each wingbeat is coming slower and slower, each movement more and more frantic—until, finally, Marmu’s wings give out entirely and she drops like a stone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She screams, and what’s left of the Radiance’s heart breaks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She </span>
  <em>
    <span>screams,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and the Radiance leaps into action. Metaphorically speaking, that is. Literally speaking, this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> domain. She calls up a gust of wind from below, strong enough to push Marmu back up and ideally get her flapping again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the wind does not come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is the Radiance’s domain, but she lacks the power to control it the way she once did. The power of a god comes from memory—positive </span>
  <em>
    <span>or</span>
  </em>
  <span> negative—and with the Infection no longer hers, she is only remembered by a handful of the ghosts of her children, traumatized bugs who hate her, and other gods who aren’t doing their best on belief either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can’t do this. She was a fool to think she could. She can’t control the dream—she’s lucky that Marmu’s new form held at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> control what she </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> inside the dream. The Radiance leaps into action, literally this time, over the edge of the platform. She tucks her wings around herself to fall faster, reaching Marmu quickly—and falling past her. Spinning in midair, she spreads her wings and flies under her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As it turns out, catching someone falling on your back isn’t all that comfortable, but that is not important right now. “Hold on,” the Radiance tells her, and surges back up into the skies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If she possessed the power she once did, she could reform the platform somewhere lower. But she does not, and fears that if she destroys it there will not be another platform at all, so all she does is alight on it, carefully, and allow Marmu to slide off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turns to her, and—she’s shaking. The poor moth is shaking, all fluffed up and eyes still wide in terror. Of course she is—falling is </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrifying.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>(The black of Void gives way to pinpricks of light. Eyes. The Lord of Shades, full of nothing but malice. They tear her in two, and she falls, trailing light and essence all the way down. She falls, and then there’s nothing at all.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” the Radiance says softly, though it’s not. “You’re okay. You’re… you’re fine, see? I caught you, you didn’t fall out of the dream, it’s fine. You’re okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marmu stops shaking. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>starts</span>
  </em>
  <span> sniffling. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> catch me, b-but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her form flickers. “I’m… not okay. I haven’t been okay for a l-long time. I’m…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The form of a moth gives way entirely to that of a little green caterpillar. Marmu visibly deflates. Her next word is barely audible: “...dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance sighs. She takes a seat next to her. “Forgive me. I hoped you wouldn’t realize.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew,” Marmu chirps sadly. “I knew for… a long time. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> long time. I don’t remember how, or why, or exactly when? But I remember… going to sleep, and then waking up different. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m not… here, not really. Not anymore. But I wanted to wait. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanted to learn how to fly! But I’ve… been waiting a really long time, haven’t I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes… you have. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay! It wasn’t your fault!” She pauses for a moment. “Was it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the obvious answer. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> her fault. It was the Wyrm’s, and the Root’s, and all those </span>
  <em>
    <span>fools</span>
  </em>
  <span> who fell for their </span>
  <em>
    <span>lies</span>
  </em>
  <span> like her </span>
  <em>
    <span>own dearly unbeloved brother—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” the Radiance admits. “But I can still teach you to fly. You deserve to be able to fly, even if it’s only in your dreams.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” Marmu hesitates. “I want to learn how to fly! But not… not now. I waited so long, I… can wait a little longer. If that’s okay with you. But thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance nods, and pulls them out of the dream. Holly’s mask, at least, helps hide the fact that her heart is breaking into even smaller pieces.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Radiance storms inside the Root’s self-imposed jail. Her eyes flash dangerously gold beneath the mask as she hisses, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The Root blinks bland blue eyes. She does not move, and it is obvious at a glance that she likely </span>
  <em>
    <span>cannot,</span>
  </em>
  <span> not with any speed. “Yes…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You supported the Wyrm, in </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> he did. You took over the lands that belonged to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Unn,</span>
  </em>
  <span> without even so much as a warning. Did </span>
  <em>
    <span>no one</span>
  </em>
  <span> ever teach you not to take things that weren’t yours? Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>wait.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinks again, calm as can be. “Your goddess can have my gardens back. I’m not using them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Your</span>
  </em>
  <span> gardens? My—</span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> goddess? She’s not—we’re not—of course she’s lovely and I wish I could spend more time with her but I get </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough</span>
  </em>
  <span> of this from my brother and at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>hide</span>
  </em>
  <span> his hatred for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not one of the Mosskin, then,” the Root murmurs quietly, but not quietly enough. “Or at least, not a particularly devoted one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> I am not one of the Mosskin!” Radiance bursts out. “Do you not recognize your own</span>
  <em>
    <span> children?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The calm mask falls, for just a moment. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Finally.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And yet the Root states, flatly, “I have no children.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did. Before you </span>
  <em>
    <span>killed them.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did not,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I—” The Root breathes in, and out. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought</span>
  </em>
  <span> he finally wished to begin a family, though neither of us truly </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed to.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bold words from the goddess of fertility. “I did not consent to what became of my seed, though I was assured it was necessary. They were not killed, for they were never alive. The hungering black ensured that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And your </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hollow Knight?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was not </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hollow Knight. It was the Wyrm’s folly to think even that pulsing emptiness could hold the Infection’s light at bay. Truly, no craft we possessed could.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Radiance snarls. “They were alive, </span>
  <em>
    <span>despite</span>
  </em>
  <span> everything you and he put them through, and so was every one of their siblings consigned to the Void.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So furious is she that she almost—</span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span>—misses the Root’s shudder. Not at the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>Void,</span>
  </em>
  <span> interestingly enough—but at the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Few know of these matters,” the Root replies at last. “And fewer still are willing to speak of them. Who are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do not even recognize the Hollow Knight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Hollow Knight. The Hollow Knight possessed no voice to cry suffering, for emptiness took that too. Who are you, and how do you know what should remain unspoken?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am the light you tried to smother twice over, in the hopes that the darkness would extinguish me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> am the one who knows the sins even </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> do not know, and I will remember them no matter how far you go to forget. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> am the light forgotten, the light </span>
  <em>
    <span>abandoned,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the light that will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> go gently into the night. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> who I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see both Knight and Vessel failed.” The Root stares, appearing slightly alarmed now. “Yet you would not have relinquished your grasp on our lands willingly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were not </span>
  <em>
    <span>your lands.</span>
  </em>
  <span> They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> your lands. The Wyrm’s conquest does not change that this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>our</span>
  </em>
  <span> home long before he took it for his own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was also mine,” the Root says solemnly, “or have you forgotten that with your sense of responsibility?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You</span>
  </em>
  <span> do not get to lecture </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> about responsibility, not when the lives of </span>
  <em>
    <span>millions</span>
  </em>
  <span> are on your head as well as mine. More, even. You cannot blame me for the lives of your children.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you cannot blame </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> for the lives of everyone you infected.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I cannot. But not every victim of </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> necessary evil </span>
  <em>
    <span>died.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You saw them as nothing more than pawns.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> saw them as living beings like you and I. As someone who shared a mind with one of your children for a not insignificant amount of time: they </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> alive, and the thing they wanted most was the thing they could never have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Freedom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Radiance snorts. “No, despite my best efforts. All they wanted was your love, your approval. Yours, and the Wyrm’s, and that was what they could never have or risk being cast away like all the others. You—”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Not</span>
  </em>
  <span> me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He, then. He expected a perfectly hollow vessel, and screwed up a perfectly good child who wanted so desperately to be what he wanted that they pretended, for their entire life, to be empty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Root does not speak, then, not for a long time. Her gaze finds the ground of her cocoon. She says, at last, “They were alive? Truly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They </span>
  <em>
    <span>were,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Radiance emphasizes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Root’s shoulders sag. “There is no chance that they survived?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your eyes should tell you that much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While her statement certainly isn’t meant </span>
  <em>
    <span>kindly,</span>
  </em>
  <span> it isn’t any </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> spiteful than anything else she has said, and yet the glare she receives is as if she directly admitted to killing the child she only chose </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span> to begin caring about. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She</span>
  </em>
  <span> did not kill them—as far as she is aware.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My eyes,” the Root says cautiously, yet coldly, “do not tell me </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> anymore. Do you have a reason for being here, save to gloat? Should you not, </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Do whatever it is the victor does in the ruins of a kingdom she destroyed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So the Radiance does, turning and leaving without another word. She hesitates just outside the doorway, beside the corpse of the Root’s beloved knight she had neglected to mention, and whispers, “Holly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is still no answer. She is still alone in their body. She isn’t sure why she bothered to hope, for even a fleeting moment, that she wasn’t.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>the girls are fightingggg</p><p>okay, jokes aside, whew! i gotta say i had a lot of fun with this chapter and that confrontation, i cant <i>believe</i> my original outline just had radi walking away smh woulda given up on SO much angst potential.</p><p>tv tropes page: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/NotSoDifferent">not so different</a></p><p>did i mention that the second half of this chapter was really, really fun to write? yes? too bad im doing it again, it was really really REALLY fun to write! who knew having two queens yell at each other would be so entertaining?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Nightmare Fuel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For the most part, the Void Infection keeps itself to below Dirtmouth. It is clearly just as widespread as that of the original version, but those affected pay no heed to her, so she pays no heed to them. She has no need to, after all—and should <em> this </em> Infection ever be stopped, perhaps those Infected will be alright.</p><p>The Radiance largely does not concern herself with the new Infection, partially because it does not affect her, and partially because any thoughts about the <em> new </em> Infection require her to think about her rather spectacular failure with the <em> old. </em> She continues to do this for months, and while she does, she plots.</p><p>Her Infection has undoubtedly been taken over by that vessel, the <em> same </em> child of Wyrm and Root that called her time after time to that other dream and became the new Lord of Shades. She cannot fight the Lord of Shades alone, not even if she has her own body. Certainly not on their own territory, and they <em> are </em> undoubtedly within the Abyss by now, biding their time… for what?</p><p>If she could draw them out of the Abyss, and is able to secure Grimm’s aid, they <em> might </em> be able to take them. Neither of those things, however, would be an easy feat. The old Lord of Shades left the Abyss only in death—in spite of <em> everyone’s </em> best efforts—and even without being currently a child himself, Grimm would be unlikely to see the wisdom in joining forces against a much stronger foe.</p><p>Within the Abyss, taking on the <em> old </em> Lord of Shades took the combined efforts of every other god anywhere nearby. There was the Radiance herself, of course, Goddess of Light and Dreams. Grimm and Unn both—before Unn’s power had diminished further than even the Radiance’s. The Root, back when the Radiance bothered to dignify her with a name, and a seemingly friendly newcomer: <em> the Wyrm. </em></p><p>Oh, if only she had <em> known </em> —but what she still knows now is that the old Lord of Shades would never have been stopped without him. So he was good for exactly one thing, before everything went wrong. All thanks to <em> him. </em></p><p>Wyrms are all the same, no matter how much they pretend to actually <em> care. </em> They never do. So it is with any god born to their place, no matter how friendly they might seem at first. Radiance was a fool to think it could ever be otherwise, and she will <em> not </em> be fooled again, should it come to that.</p><p>Even so… taking on the new Lord of Shades <em> will </em> take far more than just one supremely irritated moth goddess. The reflection of her in that dream, that golden dream where they ascended, was at the <em> peak </em> of her power. She could muster up perhaps a third of that on a good day.</p><p>(And, when the only bugs who still remember her are lingering spirits and bitter survivors of her wrath, she doesn’t <em> have </em> good days so often anymore. It might help if she wasn’t stuck in the body of a being of Void themself, killed twice over and showing no signs of return.)</p><p>(She almost, <em> almost </em> being imprisoned with Holly, if only because she misses knowing what to do.)</p><p>So it is that time flows ever on. One month becomes two, and three, and four. Radiance begins to more overtly worry around the five month mark, both at Hornet’s prolonged absence and the Void infection showing no signs of disappearance. This is, of course, to say nothing of all the disproved theories and failed plans attempted in the meantime.</p><p>It is on a cold morning shortly after the five month mark that she is nudged awake by one rapidly growing, not to mention <em> extremely loud, </em> child spitting fire into one of her eyeholes. Radiance actually <em> hisses, </em> jolting awake and glaring at the perfectly innocent pyromancer sitting pretty across the room.</p><p>Her brother kicks his legs merrily and lets out an innocent <em> nyeh? </em></p><p>“We both know you can teleport,” Radiance mutters. She rubs the side of her mask gingerly. “Don’t think I don’t know it was you.”</p><p>Grimmchild lets out a scandalized chirp. Pressing a claw to his chest and laying another atop his head, he flops backwards on the cushion. When that doesn’t get a reaction, he kicks his feet up for good measure, sticks his tongue out, and wrenches his eyes shut.</p><p>Radiance decides not to admit she’s perhaps a <em> little </em> amused. It helps that she was more <em> surprised </em> by fire in her eye than genuinely hurt. “Is there a <em> reason </em> you decided to wake me up? And no, to make me angry is not a valid reason.”</p><p><em> “Nyeh!” </em> Grimm protests, in exactly the same way he would say <em> hey </em> quite indignantly had he relearned how to talk. But, after a moment, he nods. He slips off the chair, flapping his wings on instinct to slow his fall—yet he no longer needs to, for he is nearly twice the size he was when Radiance first encountered his child-sized form and now possesses legs.</p><p>He still stumbles a little, upon landing on them. But he catches himself quickly (he’s growing <em> fast) </em> and motions for Radiance to follow him out. After a moment’s reluctance, she lets herself be led through the slightly less deserted streets of Dirtmouth, to…</p><p><em> Bretta's </em> house? She knocks, once, quietly. Then again, more forcefully, when there is no response.</p><p>“Bretta?” She calls, to no avail.</p><p><em> “Not in there,” </em> she thinks to herself. And then it occurs to her that she didn’t think that at all. She pivots slowly to look at Grimm, who looks more confused than anything else.</p><p><em> “I didn’t do anything,” </em> he thinks at no one in particular. And yet Radiance hears.</p><p>There are certain consequences to spending so long co-ruling the realm of dreams. One of these is occasional, unintentional telepathy.</p><p>...except that Grimm had been working on getting it to be more intentional and useful for more than just his estranged sister some time ago.</p><p>“Where is she?” Radiance asks—except, quite suddenly, it hits her. She puts a claw on the door, bows her head, and tries to think. Bretta <em> had </em> briefly been overcome by her Infection, hadn’t she? Where had she gone…</p><p>The fungal wastes, if she recalls correctly. Below the crossroads, not far from the hunting grounds of the mantises she had been far less acquainted with.</p><p>“Wait. I might know.” </p><p>If she isn’t there, then… Radiance won’t know what to do. But she would prefer not to have the deaths of any more bugs on her claws—particularly not <em> Bretta, </em> who likely didn’t know a thing about the Wyrm.</p><p>Grimm eyes her suspiciously, and with a wary <em> nyeh. </em></p><p>She decides not to enlighten him on his telepathy. He’ll figure it out on his own soon enough, and at least this way she has time to decide how to deal with it.</p><p>(At least, and she feels slightly sick at her relief, at least Hornet isn’t back yet. She’ll have until Hornet returns, for Grimm could tell every other bug in Dirtmouth of her true identity and no one else would bat an eye.)</p><p>(She tries not to think about how big an <em> if </em> Hornet returning actually is.)</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Bretta <em> is </em> exactly where she remembered, hugging herself and rocking back and forth. A thick black cloud of what can only be Void hovers around her head. Even knowing it won’t hurt her in this body, Radiance still hesitates before reaching out to her. She asks, instead, “Bretta? Can you hear me?”</p><p>Eyes still glassy and unseeing, Bretta mumbles something nonsensical under her breath. Radiance winces.</p><p>“Bretta, it’s me. I’m… going to try to touch you now. Okay?”</p><p>Her eyes focus, just a little bit—but not on her. On something behind her, and Bretta actually <em> hisses. </em> She hadn’t known Bretta <em> could </em> even hiss, but there’s only one other bug that it even could be.</p><p><em> “Back off,” </em> Radiance calls behind her. <em> “I might be able to snap her out of it, but there can’t be anything non-Void close by.” </em></p><p>Midway through climbing up that final ledge, Grimm audibly huffs. <em> “Well that rules </em> you <em> out, now, doesn’t it?” </em></p><p>
  <em> “In my current situation, no.” </em>
</p><p>She turns to glare at Grimmchild, only to receive a shocked look in return. Slowly, her brother says, <em> “You </em> do <em> realize you didn’t say that out loud.” </em></p><p><em> “Yes.” </em> She hadn’t. <em> “Back. Off.” </em></p><p><em> “As you wish! I wonder if I can speak to </em> others <em> with my mind yet?” </em></p><p>Radiance does not take the bait. <em> “Out.” </em></p><p>He goes, and only then does she return her attention to Bretta. Slowly, carefully, she sets a claw on her shoulder. Where talking hadn’t helped with her Infection, contact had—when bugs weren’t already too far gone. But Bretta <em> can’t </em> be too far gone. It hasn’t even been a few hours.</p><p>But… it <em> hasn’t </em> been only a few hours, has it? She was Infected before, and Radiance has <em> known </em> this whole time that the new Infection only affects those who were Infected before. She’d thought Bretta was safe simply because she hadn’t exhibited symptoms before, but…</p><p>To sum things up: “Well, <em> fuck,” </em> the Radiance hisses under her breath.</p><p>There has to be <em> something </em> she can do, <em> something </em> she can try. She doesn’t have the power to burn away the Void, and she’d risk burning Bretta up with it if she did. In terms of <em> burning, </em> Grimm is arguably much more skilled, but she isn’t sure she’d trust him with that even if he <em> could </em> get close without the (hilarious, but <em> not good </em>) potential of Bretta turning on him.</p><p>Lost in thought, claw still on Bretta’s shell, she almost misses the small voice whispering, “...Holly?”</p><p><em> Almost. </em> She snaps back to attention. Bretta's eyes are still somewhat clouded, but she’s definitely looking at her, and the Void cloud is looking a bit less thick and impenetrable.</p><p>“Yes,” she lies, “that’s me. Can you hear me?”</p><p>Bretta nods weakly. “I don’t… feel so good.”</p><p>“You will be <em> fine.” </em> </p><p><em> Please, </em> the Radiance adds silently, and then out loud, “Try to focus on me. Do you know where you are?”</p><p>“Um…” Bretta hesitates. “I think… somewhere underground. We might be close to where your sibling, um… oh <em> gods, </em> did I get…”</p><p>“You’re going to be fine. How many mushrooms can you see on the ground?”</p><p>“Uh… five… six?”</p><p>“How many horns do I have?”</p><p>“Two. On your mask, anyway…?”</p><p>“What color is my mask?”</p><p>“White. Although… it kind of looks more like a cream in the lighting… but it’s definitely white.” Something changes with that. Bretta's eyes clear up, and she continues, in a much stronger voice, “Yes, it’s white. Obviously. How I could forget such an obvious detail from my own wri… um, <em> notes, </em> I don’t know!”</p><p>Radiance pretends not to notice her near slipup concerning her… let’s say <em> recreational activity. </em> She pats Bretta on the shoulder, turns, and calls, “Grimm, she’s okay.”</p><p>In a burst of scarlet, Grimm materializes on Bretta’s other side with a theatrical bow. He is thoroughly unprepared for Bretta to hug him and start crying.</p><p><em> “Hello to you too,” </em> he says, sounding slightly touched. But Bretta does not respond. </p><p>Radiance shoots him a smug look. <em> “Looks like it’s just you and me, brother dear.” </em></p><p>“Bretta,” the Radiance says aloud, “will you be okay to head back up to Dirtmouth on your own? Grimm and I have some things to discuss.”</p><p>“But he can’t…” Bretta comes to the (not incorrect, but not entirely accurate for this situation) conclusion that a <em> discussion </em> doesn’t necessarily entail both sides being able to communicate. “Yes, I… think I’ll be fine. I was fine last time. I’m just…”</p><p>“Scared?”</p><p>Bretta nods. “A little.”</p><p>“There is no shame in that. If you wish, you can wait for us by the statue down there.” She points, Bretta nods, and as soon as she’s gone she whirls on Grimm. <em> “So.” </em></p><p><em> “So,” </em> Grimm echoes. A shit-eating grin slowly stretches across his face. <em> “Being able to use telepathy is the last thing before full speech.” </em></p><p><em> “I assumed as much, and I </em> know <em> what you plan on doing. Do </em>not.”</p><p>Her brother yawns lazily. <em> “Give me one reason why.” </em></p><p><em> “I have </em> given <em> you several very good reasons, but since they have all apparently escaped your notice, here is one more: if you tell Hornet who I really am, that her sibling is dead, I </em> will <em> make sure you are the </em> last <em> Grimmchild there ever is. I do wonder what would happen if your mortal form was shattered before the Nightmare Heart was strong enough to craft a replacement?” </em></p><p>Gone is the casual mirth, replaced by a carefully neutral expression masking fear. <em> “You wouldn’t.” </em></p><p>
  <em> “I’d like to think I wouldn’t have to. But I also thought that you wouldn’t choose the Wyrm over your sister, and here we are.” </em>
</p><p>Grimm actually chokes on some of his own fire. <em> “You honestly think this is about </em>him?”</p><p>
  <em> “Who else would this be about?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “How about every innocent bug you killed in your quest for misplaced vengeance?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I didn’t kill them. The Wyrm had the choice to stop this at any time, and he never did. He—” </em>
</p><p><em> “Fine.” </em> Grimm audibly hisses at her. <em> “She won’t find out about you from me. But how can you possibly still think you are in the right, Soleil?” </em></p><p>
  <em> “You lost the right to call me that when you betrayed me.” </em>
</p><p><em> “You say that </em> I <em> betrayed </em> you. <em> And yet you are the one threatening my life for a secret that will come out eventually, with or without my help.” </em></p><p><em> “You don’t have the high ground you think you do. Now come on.” </em> With that, she closes the connection, and seals her mind off to further telepathy. He’ll be able to get through again eventually, but not yet.</p><p>And right now, what she needs is some peace and quiet and to get Hornet’s girlfriend back to DIrtmouth in one piece, with or without assistance from her foolish, sentimental little brother.</p><p>(Bretta is returned to Dirtmouth without further incident. Unfortunately for the sake of peace and quiet, the trio arrives to Hornet waiting for them.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TV Tropes page: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/NightmareFuel">Nightmare Fuel</a>.</p><p>if y'all are wondering, I'd barely written anything on this in weeks and then last night I finished two chapters and started on a third. we've gotten to the really fun part of the fic! I just hope I can do how I imagined the various fight scenes justice.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Cain and Abel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ghost is in Hallownest,” is the first thing Hornet says once everyone (Bretta included, because no one wants to leave her alone right now) is settled back in the house. “The weaver goddess was certain of that. And we have <em> searched </em> everywhere else, which means there is only one place they can still be.”</p><p>“The Abyss,” Radiance concludes. She could have done without being right, just this once. “It won’t be safe for you down there.”</p><p>Hornet laughs hollowly. It doesn’t sound entirely genuine. “Oh, I <em> know, </em> believe me. But we have you, don’t we?”</p><p>Oh, what she doesn’t know. Words failing her once again, as they often do when thinking of Holly is involved, Radiance settles for a simple nod.</p><p>“Given who Grimm is,” Hornet adds, “I would hazard a guess that he has some limited protection from Void poisoning as well. Am I wrong?”</p><p>Grimm <em> nyehs </em> in surprise, but bobs his head in agreement nonetheless. His tail flicks back and forth behind him, barely visible from the way he’s sitting backwards in a high-backed chair.</p><p>“What… what about me?” Bretta asks in a small voice. “I don’t want to be a burden…”</p><p>“You’re <em> not </em> a burden.” Hornet crosses the room in a couple of steps and takes Bretta’s claws in her own. “But I want you to be safe. <em> I </em> will have to wait outside the Abyss and hope that nothing goes wrong down there. Even the rest of Ancient Basin is… well, there is a <em> lot </em> of Void in the air, and given what they just told me about what happened to you…”</p><p>Bretta shudders. “Yeah.”</p><p>“We’ll be alright. Will you be?”</p><p>She hesitates, but eventually nods. “I… don’t think Quirrel will mind if I hang out in the back of his and Tiso’s house for a while. Though you won’t be that long, right?”</p><p>“Of course not.” Hornet pulls the beetle into a hug. “I missed you, Bretta.”</p><p>Bretta sniffles, and hugs her back. Radiance looks at them, looks at Grimm, and makes a decision. She grabs her brother by the scruff and hauls him bodily out of the room.</p><hr/><p> </p><p>In the end, Grimm goes with Bretta, leaving Hornet and Radiance to wait for him outside the well. Hornet takes a seat, legs dangling over the edge, and wordlessly begins to polish her needle.</p><p>Radiance sits cross-legged as well and asks, “Are… <em> you </em> doing okay?”</p><p>“What?” Her head snaps up. “Oh. I… suppose? No less okay than I was before leaving.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>Hornet stops polishing for a moment. She continues, eventually. “I <em> may </em> have gotten in slightly over my head in Pharloom. I certainly didn’t <em> plan </em> on becoming an enemy of the state in an entirely different kingdom, but I suppose one good thing about Hallownest being gone is that I can’t cause a diplomatic incident. Though that <em> would </em> be fairly amusing…”</p><p>“Back up <em> just </em> a little. You became <em> what?” </em></p><p>“Enemy of the state,” Hornet says like she’s discussing the nonexistent weather. “Their kingdom’s government might be better described as a cult. Or, perhaps I should say <em> former </em> government?”</p><p>“I…” Radiance blinks. “I have to admit, I really do <em> not </em> know how to respond to that.”</p><p>“It wasn’t <em> so </em> bad, most of the time. Not after Lace… well.” Hornet hums pleasantly to herself. “I found the weaver goddess eventually, and learned all I needed to know. As well as some things I didn’t particularly <em> want </em> to know, but that was the least surprising thing about her.”</p><p>“Hm. Who is this Lace?”</p><p>“Nobody important.” Hornet polishes her needle with perhaps more force than necessary. Radiance takes the hint, and yet Hornet keeps going unbidden. “I thought we might have had something, but… well. Pharloom needed her. Hallownest needed me. She knows the way to Hallownest, if she ever desires to visit.”</p><p>“You don’t think she will?”</p><p>Hornet snorts. “I wish she would. I know she won’t.”</p><p><em> Ah. </em> Either a bad breakup, or something approaching it. Radiance elects to not pry further and instead sit in silence until Grimm arrives. </p><p>When he does, Radiance stands before Hornet does. “Let’s go, shall we?”</p><p>“Let’s,” Hornet agrees, and Grimm lets out an affirmative <em> nyeh. </em> </p><p>Radiance looks down the well, considering. Then, she grabs the rope and leaps in, rappelling down as she goes. She does not see the look Hornet and Grimm exchange behind her, nor the subtle but very deliberate nod from the latter.</p><hr/><p> </p><p>She should have <em> known. </em> She should have <em> known </em> she couldn’t trust her brother. She should have <em> known </em> that he would find some way to tell Hornet, even though she’d been careful not to leave him alone with her. She should have <em> known </em> something was wrong when Grimm darted off to a side passage and Hornet <em> didn’t </em> immediately move to pursue him. If she had known the layout of the Ancient Basin better, perhaps she would have realized that they were going the wrong way to get to the Abyss.</p><p>But she didn’t.</p><p>The only clue she gets is a flash of red essence at the edge of her vision. She turns, but not fast enough, and <em> something </em> sends her flying into the wall. Spots dance across her vision, but not enough to obscure it entirely. This is not a good thing, for she can see the motionless, lifeless vessel collapsed on the ground not four feet in front of her.</p><p>If she can see Holly’s body… and yes, she can feel a breeze from somewhere to the left ruffling her feathers, which she <em> should not have… </em> she’s in a physical form of her own now. Which, in any circumstance but this one, would be exactly what she wanted.</p><p>But this? This is <em> all wrong. </em> Maybe this is a dream. A nightmare. Maybe she can just wake up, and… no, this can’t be a dream. Something had to give eventually. Clearly, Grimm is better at magic at this age than she believed.</p><p>And Hornet, her shock rapidly morphing to hatred… <em> that </em> is all too real.</p><p><em> “You,” </em> she hisses, needle already in her grasp, as Grimm retreats to stand beside her. “What have you done with my sibling?”</p><p>“I will assume you mean Holly. <em> I </em> have done nothing.”</p><p>“Stop <em> lying! </em> You’ve lied <em> enough.” </em></p><p>“I know better than to think you will believe me now.” Radiance uses the wall to push herself back into a standing position. “And you would be foolish to do so. But the sibling you thought you knew… they were already gone, when the Infection changed. I am sorry.”</p><p><em> “Let’s ignore, for a moment, everything else you did,” </em> Grimm says icily. <em> “How could you </em> possibly <em> have thought impersonating her dead sibling was okay?” </em></p><p>“When did I say I thought that was okay?”</p><p>“You didn’t,” Hornet says tersely. “But you could have—”</p><p>“Done what, exactly? Should I have told you of who I was from the start? Should I have run away before you saw me?”</p><p>“You shouldn’t have <em> stolen their body.” </em></p><p>“You think I <em> wanted to? </em> I had no choice!”</p><p>Drier than the wastelands surrounding Hallownest, Hornet mutters, “I’m sure you did not.”</p><p><em> “That, she actually isn’t lying about,” </em> Grimm pipes up, confirming her suspicions. <em> “The seals still held, until I finished breaking them.” </em></p><p>“And <em> you,” </em> Radiance hisses. “I see our kinship still means nothing to you.”</p><p>
  <em> “It means something. It has always meant something, which is why I couldn’t let you do this to someone else’s sibling.” </em>
</p><p>Hornet looks at Grimm oddly. “Do I particularly want to know?”</p><p><em> “She is my sister,” </em> Grimm says. He adds, almost as an afterthought, <em> “If it’s any consolation—“ </em></p><p>“It won’t be,” Radiance hisses.</p><p>
  <em> “—she didn’t learn of your nature from me.” </em>
</p><p>“The weaver goddess,” Hornet says, “told me several things I did not ask for. Such as who <em> you </em> were, and that in this form, by me? <em> You </em> can be killed.”</p><p>“So can you,” Radiance points out. “So can our oh so dependable Nightmare King.”</p><p>In a flash of scarlet light, Grimm teleports to her other side, blocking the other exit to this room. He snaps, and a fireball materializes within the claws of his other hand. Hornet, meanwhile, holds her needle at the ready. Soulbound silk sparks and shimmers into being around her, ready to be lashed out at her beck and call.</p><p>Radiance summons a ring of blades—first ethereal, and then very solid. Points out, they spin slowly in the air behind her.</p><p>At his strongest, she and Grimm are evenly matched. This still applies in the dream realm, where both of them, in their home territory, hit harder. Grimm is not at his strongest, however, if not in magic than in body. If she was only fighting him, she would almost certainly be able to win.</p><p>But she is <em> not </em> just fighting him. She has Hornet to contend with too. Hornet, who she would really rather not fight, but at this point she is unlikely to have a choice. Hornet, if not a god in her own right, <em> is </em> descended from the Wyrm—but if that gives her any further strength, it only adds to the unflinching power she possesses through her own hard work and skill.</p><p>She could handle either of them alone. She could not handle both of them. It is with this in mind that she tells Hornet, “I do not wish to fight you.”</p><p>“I have no such reservations.”</p><p>And, with a battle cry, she charges needle-first. Radiance leaps to the side. With a thought, her ring of soulbound nails deflects Hornet’s charge from her right, then the twin fiery projectiles from Grimm’s cloak on her left. If this were the dream realm, she would focus much more on attacking than dodging. But she can take many more hits in the dream realm, and she is much more powerful in the dream realm.</p><p>Here, she merely has a ring of aerial blades with which to attack and evade everything from fireballs to spiked mines. Radiance will admit, privately, that she can be a <em> bit </em> spiteful—but she is not <em> stupid. </em> This is not a fight she can win.</p><p>And so, while parrying one furious strike from Hornet after another, a single blade detaches itself from the group. It flies for Grimm’s legs, tripping him with the flat of the blade. Radiance wastes no time in teleporting past him, looking back at Hornet while he is distracted.</p><p>“For what little it is worth,” Radiance says, “I <em> am </em> sorry.”</p><p>Then, she flees, taking to the air in a desperate attempt to make it further down the tunnel than they can follow. She flies above a hall with a spike-filled floor, past a bench that has apparently seen a not insignificant amount of use despite its out of the way location. There has to be a way out this way. Unless…</p><p>Oh <em> no. </em></p><p>She stops after the second segment of spiky floor, landing on the edge of the next platform. She turns, returning her blades to their circular formation. Not a moment too soon. One fireball blocked, then another, and a third sent flying back toward its caster. Grimm merely waves a hand and it dissipates into midair.</p><p>Hornet’s needle lodges itself into the ledge at her feet. Radiance sends a blade to slice the silk before she can pull herself to it. What should have been a neat slice bounces off the thread harmlessly, and in an instant Hornet’s landed on it, launched herself up off it, and kicked Radiance in the face.</p><p>“Got tired of <em> that </em> problem back in Pharloom,” Hornet taunts.</p><p>Radiance ignores her (mostly) in favor of Grimm. Hornet, after all, can easily parry her attacks. <em> Grimm </em> is much poorer on defense, particularly in this form where he can’t have columns of flame erupt from the earth to protect himself. Her blades slash at him, faster and faster, some detaching now and then to keep Hornet busy.</p><p>Her blades don’t connect often. But when they do, they connect <em> hard. </em> Grimm cries out as one gets lucky, as he doesn’t leap back fast enough. She ignores the way her heart cries out too, circles her blades around his head. With a careful wave, they turn point over handle, now all angled at his neck.</p><p>“You thought,” Radiance hisses, “that this would end any differently?”</p><p>Grimm blinks those red, baleful eyes. He considers this, and shrugs. <em> “I imagined slightly different surroundings. Hornet, be a dear, anytime now would be good.” </em></p><p>“Lower your weapons, “ Hornet says on cue, “and I might let you live.”</p><p>Radiance doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t have to. She knows Hornet’s needle is angled <em> somewhere </em> vital, and knows from experience with the Infection that it is <em> sharp. </em></p><p>“We both know you won’t do that,” Radiance counters. “Walk away, right now. Forget any of this happened. Rebuild Hallownest on <em> your </em> terms, not those of others.”</p><p>“Tempting. What’s stopping me from killing you and doing it anyway?”</p><p>“Absolutely nothing. If I am to die here…”</p><p>“You <em> will.” </em></p><p>“Answer me one question first. What happened to the moths?”</p><p>“...who?”</p><p><em> “I fail to see how this is relevant,” </em> Grimm mutters. <em> “Hornet, I really would appreciate not having sharp pointy objects pointed at vital parts of my body, thank you!” </em></p><p>“What happened,” Radiance repeats, “to the moths? You don’t know, either of you. You don’t even know what <em> he </em> did to them. Of course you don’t. <em> You </em> stopped caring about our kin long ago, and <em> you </em> were born too late to ever know unless you asked why. Unless you asked why I did this, and what drove me to it, and I suspect if you <em> did </em> the Wyrm would have deflected from his own actions to what I was doing in response. He was <em> always </em> good at that.</p><p>“What happened to the moths? <em> He </em> came. The Wyrm. The <em> Pale King. </em> He came, he saw, he conquered, uniting these caverns under one rule. Many of the moths I loved were curious, and went to him. I bore them no ill will. I would always care about them, and they in turn cared for me—but <em> he </em> couldn’t <em> share. </em> He forced them to choose, and nearly all of them—bless them—chose me. He pretended to backtrack. He pretended he could share. But one by one, my moths began to disappear.</p><p>“The first was a tragic accident. The second was coincidence. By the third, I was getting suspicious, but even after the fourth and fifth I couldn’t know for sure until one of them lasted long enough to cry out for help. It was help I was not fast enough to give, but I was fast enough to avenge those who had fallen and protect those rapidly dwindling few that remained.</p><p>“You want to know why I created the Infection? It was an act of vengeance, and an act of protection, and most of all: it was very, <em> very </em> deliberate. I did it, not because I wanted to, but because all the moths he <em> murdered </em> didn’t stand a chance without it. So for <em> that, </em> I am not sorry. I will <em> never </em> be sorry. Kill me, then, if you must. But know that you are only carrying on the legacy of genocide your <em> father </em> started.”</p><p>And with that, she strikes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>tfw you accidentally softlock yourself out of writing a redemption arc for pk because y i k e s he was not supposed to be this bad but, well. i think i know several fanon versions of pk who would actually want to beat the shit out of this one for multiple reasons and frankly i would join them.</p><p>what do ya know, turns out the radiance was actually (at least partially) justified. i <i>have</i> been not so subtly hinting at something along these lines the whole time, but now the ugly truth is out. that being said, just because shes justified in one thing does not mean that she's justified in another (cough, literally everything <i>since</i> the infection, cough.)</p><p>anyway, im sure everything will be fine. :) see you tomorrow, because i might be slightly evil but im not that evil to leave you hanging for more than like. a day.</p><p>edit: oops forgot the tv tropes page, here it is: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/CainAndAbel">Cain and Abel</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. First Law of Resurrection</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Something</span>
  </em>
  <span> tackles her from the side. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Probably</span>
  </em>
  <span> someone, though who could it even be? Grimm is about to be skewered in front of her and hasn’t moved. Hornet is behind her and too small, too light. More concerning is the flash of Void and brief sensation of nothingness, and then the Radiance falls to the ground, blades clattering down around her. Still on the same platform, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>much</span>
  </em>
  <span> further away from Grimm and Hornet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks up. Her eyes go wide, and in her own body there is nothing to hide that, but given the situation she doesn’t exactly </span>
  <em>
    <span>care.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She </span>
  <em>
    <span>stares,</span>
  </em>
  <span> in disbelief and relief both. She is not the only one. Hornet is the first to break the silence, first by letting her needle fall from her grasp, then by whispering, “...Holly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly—the </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> Holly, they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive!</span>
  </em>
  <span>—waves cautiously at their sister. Then they turn, and extend their hand to her. To the Radiance. Soleil. The one imprisoned with them for so long, who had tried so </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard</span>
  </em>
  <span> to convince them they weren’t hollow even once it was obvious they weren’t, and who—despite this—cared about them a great deal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stares at that too, for a long time. She might never have taken it if Hornet hadn’t chosen then to ask, “What are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Don’t you know who that </span>
  <em>
    <span>is?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Their hand does not so much as waver. She takes it then, and stands. With a wave of her own claws, her blades dissipate into nothingness, and she looks them in the eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The eyes that, due to spending so long in their body, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> are there even if she can’t see them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have no idea,” Radiance says, “how glad I am to see you back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly gives her a long look. Then they hug her. They eventually step back, patting her on the shoulder, before turning their attention to their sister and her dearly unbeloved brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holly… is that even what you wish to be called?” Hornet asks. “Or did </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> lie about that too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stare for a moment. Nod, then shake their head, and take a step forward toward their sister. Hornet realizes what they want to do slightly before they do it. She leaps back out of hugging range.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, I. I don’t do hugs,” Hornet says unconvincingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly cocks their head as if to say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh really?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Then, in an instant and a flash of darkness that makes Radiance’s eyes hurt, they teleport right next to their sister and hug her too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet grumbles under her breath. She glares at Radiance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance glares right back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holly, why… what happened to you? Are you alright?” Hornet gets in return a shrug and a nod respectively. “Can you… speak?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They consider this. Holly makes a clicking noise, then looks at Hornet hopefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… will take that as a no. Aren’t you at least a little mad at her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The headshake that comes is immediate and quite deliberate, and earns a slightly confused stare from their sister and a demand of “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Radiance’s attention is drawn elsewhere—specifically, to the Nightmare King, who is only around Hornet’s height currently, has drawn his wings around him with a shudder, and just now coughed wetly into his own claws.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Nightmare King. But he’s also her little brother. And if Holly hadn’t stopped her, stopped everything—she would have killed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could have </span>
  <em>
    <span>told</span>
  </em>
  <span> me what he did to the moths,” Grimm mutters, sounding slightly strained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a flash, she’s seated beside him. She hates the way he flinches away at her light, but—there is no one else she can blame for </span>
  <em>
    <span>that,</span>
  </em>
  <span> is there? No matter how much she wants to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you have believed me?” She asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm looks away. Quietly, he says, “I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That… is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> the no she was expecting. Lacking any good way to respond, she reaches for her own magic again and says, “Where does it hurt? I can…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am perfectly capable of patching myself up. Forgive me for not wanting the bug who was </span>
  <em>
    <span>about to kill me</span>
  </em>
  <span> near anything sensitive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> hurts more than any blade or fireball can. Radiance—Soleil—nods wordlessly. She blinks hard. “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You keep saying that. I wouldn’t have killed you, if things had gone differently.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had no way of knowing that. And even if </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> wouldn’t have, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hornet</span>
  </em>
  <span> would have. Would you have stopped her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm’s lack of an answer is answer enough in itself. He lowers his head, withdrawing even further into himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil decides to change the subject. “So… you can talk outside telepathy now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As it turns out, near death experiences are </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span> for forcing the matter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That… makes sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she doesn’t add, because he’s sick of hearing it. They sit there, instead, in a distinctly uncomfortable silence. They might keep sitting there forever, except Holly chooses then to teleport onto Grimm’s other side and give him a questioning look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm sighs. “Sure. Got nothing against you, kid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly immediately hugs him too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I take it,” Hornet says, “that you don’t want us to keep fighting her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still hugging Grimm, Holly nods an affirmative. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would also appreciate that,” Radiance adds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holly. Did you hear what she said? About the moths?” Hornet gets two quick nods. “Was she telling the truth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet ignores her in favor of her sibling, who gives her a long look and—nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” Hornet bows her head. “In that case, that… changes quite a lot. I will admit I was not unaware of some of the things my father did, though not their full extent. He was wrong, and were he to show his face now my needle would find his heart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes the Radiance a good few seconds to realize that is </span>
  <em>
    <span>probably</span>
  </em>
  <span> the closest Hornet will get to actually saying sorry. And really, threatening to stab the (probably, hopefully) dead Wyrm certainly doesn’t hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apology accepted,” she says wryly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet bristles. “Don’t push your luck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will not. I… thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The spiderling nods curtly—and it is then her sibling decides to let Grimm go. They look down the cavern ahead—not the way they all came from, but the way forward. The way that is a dead end, where a different vessel breathed their last not so long ago. And was… reanimated by the Infection. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Her</span>
  </em>
  <span> Infection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bretta was a clear sign that being Infected once does not stop one from being Infected again. (This is, Radiance is pretty sure, a stark contrast to how mundane diseases are spread—and it was a source of much confusion for the researchers of Fog Canyon, as the Wyrm never would admit that his actions had consequences.) Which means… being that close to that unlucky vessel…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should continue this conversation elsewhere,” Radiance says tersely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very well,” Hornet agrees. “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is in that moment that the faint light, filtering in from the caverns above and behind them, winks out. Faced with absolute darkness, as a being of </span>
  <em>
    <span>light,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Radiance does the only thing she can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She panics.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(And then she takes the much more sensible course of action of calling an orb of light into being so she can actually see and therefore </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> panic.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly’s taken up their nail and blocked a strike from another vessel, and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>recognizes</span>
  </em>
  <span> that one. That’s the one she’d tried to save, and… failed. Badly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, the hole in their head is filled not with orange, but thick black. Void leaks out from that hole, but it does not seem to impede their fighting skills. Fortunately, Holly is just as good, if not better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to </span>
  <em>
    <span>go,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Radiance repeats, though maintaining her light is taking some concentration. “Hornet? Grimm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t need to tell me again,” Hornet mutters. Her needle is already at the ready again. “What—who—?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A broken vessel,” Grimm supplies. “One of </span>
  <em>
    <span>many</span>
  </em>
  <span> that I couldn’t…” He coughs again, and tries to get to his feet. He sways unsteadily as he does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grimm—” Radiance begins, more than one question in her eyes. But before she can finish, several things happen in quick succession.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>First, the broken vessel gets in a lucky hit, sending Holly sliding back. They stop before too long—though behind Radiance—by digging their nail bladefirst into the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Second, Grimm’s legs give out from under him, and he falls as well, breaking into another coughing fit. This time he coughs up haemolymph, and that—that is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not good.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Third, Radiance makes a decision. She calls her blades back into being, circling the light she needs to see. She blocks another powerful strike from the broken vessel, then another.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Go,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> she hisses back to no one in particular. “I’ll catch up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dimly, she’s aware of Holly nodding, tucking Grimm under their arm, and disappearing in a flash of Void. But she is far more focused on defending, now. She has </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> been better at defending, at protecting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is not a coincidence. She deflects dash after dash, slash after slash, and if the vessel flags at all, they’re not showing it. Radiance, on the other hand, is… already tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She risks a glance backward. Everyone’s gone, and in the second she takes her attention off of the broken vessel, one of her own blades is whacked into her wing. She bites back a cry of pain, and with a swish of feathers teleports back. Almost to the edge of the platform.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s just in time to see a needle fly past her, striking the broken vessel squarely in the chest. They—it? Do they even possess individuality right now, if they’re controlled by what she thinks?—stare down at it numbly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance risks another glance back, further back this time. Hornet is standing on the other side of the pit of spikes, silk at the ready to pull her needle back to her. Holly is shortly behind her, Grimm slung (rather unwillingly) over their shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She fires everything else she has at the broken vessel—and she flies. She lands on the platform, stumbles a little but maintains her balance. The group runs, alternatively jumping, teleporting, or grappling when necessary. Out of Ancient Basin, through the City of Tears, Fungal Wastes, and Crossroads.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don’t stop until they’re climbing up the well to Dirtmouth. Even then, Radiance can’t help but squint over her shoulders fearfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last thing she is expecting—the very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> last thing—is for someone to be waiting for them. Bretta, who recognizes Hornet and Holly and Grimm, and who doesn’t recognize her. Of course she doesn’t. Why would she?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re… a moth,” someone else says, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh fuck Quirrel is here too.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He was one of Monomon’s archivists, and while none of them had figured out the whole truth…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, what about it,” Radiance mutters tersely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing. Just… surprised, is all. Haven’t seen another in…” Quirrel blinks. “A long time, I think? I’m sorry. My memory is </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> not what it used to be, but I think I used to know a moth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s nice to meet you!” Bretta chirps. “What’s your name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It goes without saying what she can’t say, though </span>
  <em>
    <span>Radiance</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the only name she’s had that matters anymore. Someone would recognize </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and given how… </span>
  <em>
    <span>poorly</span>
  </em>
  <span> that had gone not an hour ago, any more recognition right now is something she would very much like to avoid. With that in mind, there is only one name left to give, and it isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Radiance, Goddess of Light and Dreams.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Soleil,” she says, and ignores the squawk of surprise from her brother. “It’s… nice to meet you too, I suppose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In truth, it is neither </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span> nor a </span>
  <em>
    <span>meeting,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but that is not the fault of either Bretta nor Quirrel.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>not saying I've been planning this from the beginning BUT I've actually been planning this from the beginning :D come on, y'all trusted me not to actually kill anyone here....... right? ............right???</p><p>TV Tropes page: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/FirstLawOfResurrection">First Law of Resurrection.</a> this particular choice is <i>far</i> from subtle, I think. and now I can actually talk about Holly again in the comments!</p><p>
  <strike>you can see a reference to my other Hollow Knight OC if you squint. he might turn up at some point though probably not in this fic.</strike>
</p><p>thanks for reading! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Crossing the Burnt Bridge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>How do you go about repairing burnt bridges? It’s one thing when the bridges you burn need to be burned, for your own wellbeing or that of others. It is another thing entirely when you </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> actually need to burn them till there was nothing left but ashes and spite, you only really needed to put a gate on your side and keep it locked for a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some bridges need to be burned. Others do not. As reluctant as the goddess currently going merely by Soleil is to admit it, in burning the bridges that desperately needed burning, some other, more important ones got caught in there too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like, for instance, the completely metaphorical burnt bridge of her very literal relationship with Grimm. It’s something that absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be discussed, sooner rather than later. It’s something that absolutely will not </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> discussed anytime soon, because when compared to the new Void-based Infection and the fact the new Lord of Shades was extremely powerful </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span> ascending to godhood, the lack of trust she caused is a rather unexciting third.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(It is an </span>
  <em>
    <span>important</span>
  </em>
  <span> third issue, but there just isn’t any time.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Not anymore.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s take,” Hornet mutters, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“one</span>
  </em>
  <span> impossible thing at a time. Holly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How</span>
  </em>
  <span> are you alive?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The vessel scribbles some big, blocky letter-runes on a small chalkboard they’d found in a different abandoned house, and shows it to the group before wiping off that and writing some more. All together, their explanation is… slightly disturbing.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>JOINED SIBLINGS IN LORD OF SHADES. COULDN’T LEAVE. DIDN’T TRY UNTIL I SAW AN OPENING. TOOK THE OPENING. HERE WE ARE.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The </span>
  <em>
    <span>group,</span>
  </em>
  <span> in all, consists of two pairs of siblings. Both pairs are estranged, but while Hornet is clearly concerned on her sibling’s behalf, and that goes both ways… Soleil </span>
  <em>
    <span>sincerely</span>
  </em>
  <span> doubts it’s an accident that Grimm has positioned himself both as far away from her and as close to the door as he can get.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(She thought he hated her before. She was wrong.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(She deserves this.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Lord of Shades,” Hornet repeats. “I’ve heard that name… or is it a title? Before. But I cannot place where.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly nods, and writes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>SIBLING GHOST GOD CONFUSED LOST HURTING.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Which makes very little sense as written, but it wouldn’t make much more sense to those unfamiliar with the affairs of gods without that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who is this Lord of Shades? </span>
  <em>
    <span>What have they done to Ghost?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>GHOST = LORD OF SHADES.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was a confirmation I didn’t particularly need,” Soleil mutters, and Hornet turns on her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>suspected.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Given that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> lost to your sibling </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span> they ascended, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> would not have stood a chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse </span>
  <em>
    <span>you,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I would have—” Hornet pauses, and considers this. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lost. I don’t wish to discuss </span>
  <em>
    <span>that.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Soleil ruffles her feathers and stares quite intently out the window. Outside, Tiso is attempting to convince Quirrel of… </span>
  <em>
    <span>something,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and whatever it is seems to involve his shield and a lot of arm-waving. “There was… some kind of dream colosseum, for lack of a better description, though I know not its origin. There was someone watching us fight, and I suspect that same someone was the facilitator of our fight every single time. Rather rude, but their victory was the last piece needed for them to ascend. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Void given Focus</span>
  </em>
  <span> indeed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A dream colosseum,” Hornet repeats flatly. “Where you had to fight against Ghost, over and over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> the only one. Holly went silent often shortly before I was summoned, and… when I was summoned, it was as if I was at my full strength. Not this…” Soleil gestures helplessly at her current situation, fluffed up in a chair in a home on the outskirts of the last real civilization in Hallownest. “Not like this. Holly, was it like that for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly hesitates, then nods. They write, </span>
  <em>
    <span>BEFORE I WAS SEALED.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet looks slightly skeptical. “You’re telling me that Ghost not only defeated </span>
  <em>
    <span>you,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and did so in some… dream arena, instead of in the real world—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They could not have defeated </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the real world. Until recently, I lacked a physical form. Consider it a failsafe to ensure </span>
  <em>
    <span>your father</span>
  </em>
  <span>—” (Soleil sees both Holly and Hornet visibly wince.) “—to ensure the Wyrm calling himself a king was unable to simply kill me to end the Infection. Though he would have lost, if he tried.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” Hornet sounds even more skeptical, but does not press the issue. “So Ghost not only defeated you, at the height of your power, but defeated </span>
  <em>
    <span>Holly at their strongest right before?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I,” Grimm croaks from the corner of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What?</span>
  </em>
  <span> You aren’t even weakened!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm makes a so-so gesture with his claws and supplies, “I was called in both in my previous physical form, before the latest Ritual’s completion, and my </span>
  <em>
    <span>own</span>
  </em>
  <span> true form. Neither incarnation would prove trivial to the average bug, </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially</span>
  </em>
  <span> not my true form.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet stares at him for a long moment, before finally sighing and admitting, “Very well, I was too. I faintly recall an audience of golden-masked bugs, and an urge to replicate how I had fought Ghost previously—in Greenpath and the Kingdom’s Edge both. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>distinctly</span>
  </em>
  <span> recall being unsure whether it was Ghost who haunted my dreams, or I theirs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I recall that as well. It was… a ritual, I believe, though not a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ritual.</span>
  </em>
  <span> A charming one, and a pleasure to participate in, though I do not believe Ghost shared the sentiment with regards to my true form.” Grimm smiles, slightly bemused. “This was likely why they decided, exactly once, to attack my lesser form while I was bowing to our audience as a courtesy. They did not make </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> mistake twice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>NOT KNOW HOW THEY BECAME LORD OF SHADES,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Holly writes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I REMEMBER TOO.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know how,” Soleil murmurs. “We never fully killed the original Lord of Shades. Which </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> have been enough, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> have been enough if a being of Void did not receive high amounts of Focus from… whoever these dreamers were, drawing their attention anew. I fear there may be little left of your sibling now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Holly got out,” Hornet insists.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>NOT THE SAME. OTHERS WERE… UNRESPONSIVE. COULDN’T COMMUNICATE.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Holly wipes off the chalkboard, thinks for a moment, and continues, </span>
  <em>
    <span>EVERY OTHER SIBLING BUT GHOST WASN’T…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They manage to write an </span>
  <em>
    <span>A</span>
  </em>
  <span> before they drop the piece of chalk they were holding. Their shoulders start shaking. Hornet crosses the room in an instant and wedges herself into their lap, pulling their arm into hers, and holding them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to say it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly gives their sister a look. Reaching down with a spare arm for their chalk, she adds, “Or </span>
  <em>
    <span>write</span>
  </em>
  <span> it, for that matter. But… if Ghost was the same way as those others… Radiance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil glances up. “Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it possible to die in a dream? Barring… extenuating circumstances...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Possible, yes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Likely,</span>
  </em>
  <span> no. A dreamer must be harmed severely enough to perish several times over, were they awake, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> the entity doing the harming must be both aware of this and possess power enough to visit those wounds upon their physical body. As for the extenuating circumstances you will not ask about, if one does not </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> a physical body, they can endure significantly longer but are in the end not much less vulnerable, and in the case of the seals your… the Wyrm enacted, </span>
  <em>
    <span>those</span>
  </em>
  <span> were meant to kill the dreamer’s physical form in the event they were broken.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet sighs. “Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly rubs their sister’s back before taking the chalk back and writing, </span>
  <em>
    <span>WHAT DO YOU REMEMBER?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>said</span>
  </em>
  <span> I didn’t want to talk about it,” Soleil mutters. But she eventually does continue, “I recall their mask breaking, and the Lord of Shades rising up from the void that spilled out. For the sake of my own sanity, I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>attempted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to block out what occurred next, but I can assure you that if they died, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> did not kill them, and it </span>
  <em>
    <span>appeared</span>
  </em>
  <span> that they took on the mantle of the Lord of Shades and merged with the original.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...right,” Hornet says, “which means…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a furtive look in Soleil’s direction, Grimm elaborates, “Ghost, as we knew them, is almost certainly gone. If they are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> completely gone, they will be in enough pain that it would be a mercy to finish them off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s… assume they aren’t completely gone. How can we get them </span>
  <em>
    <span>back?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> know? I don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Neither do I,” Soleil admits. “To tell the truth, we might not even be able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Lord of Shades this time. The last time took…” She looks at Grimm, who meets her gaze without flinching this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Both of us,” Grimm counts off, “Unn, Albasten and Cyclamen…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who?” Hornet asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm blinks balefully and repeats, “The Wyrm and the Root, in that order.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very well, that makes some sense, but… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cyclamen? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Who names someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>that?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil snorts. “I asked her the same thing the first time we met. The answer was that she herself did. If only having… </span>
  <em>
    <span>interesting</span>
  </em>
  <span> ideas of what makes a lovely name was her only crime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet nods and mutters under her breath, though still loudly enough that all present can hear her, “I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>endlessly</span>
  </em>
  <span> glad that—well, I picked my own name too, but I’m glad I got my mother’s good taste for doing so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>point</span>
  </em>
  <span> is,” Grimm cuts in, “that that took five gods, all at their full power. I am still not quite… attuned, to the Nightmare Heart, yet. Will not be for some time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least your troupe knows you </span>
  <em>
    <span>exist.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Outside of this room, and barring other gods, I am remembered by approximately </span>
  <em>
    <span>two </span>
  </em>
  <span>individuals, both of whom are </span>
  <em>
    <span>ghosts.</span>
  </em>
  <span> If you’re wondering, being forgotten is </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely</span>
  </em>
  <span> painful.” Soleil rolls her eyes and adds, “Thank you for asking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm ignores her and says, “Unn is at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>remembered,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but she’s not… exactly in fighting shape at the moment. Cyclamen is… an </span>
  <em>
    <span>option,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but not one I suspect anyone here would like to take. Albasten is not an option for multiple reasons, first of which being if he turned out to not be dead, I would not trust him with </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil resists the urge to ask when </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> changed, or when he stopped trusting the Wyrm over his sister, or any number of other questions that would not actually help anyone and would only serve to make things even worse than they already are. She looks out the window again, just in time to see Tiso launch Quirrel up and into the air on his shield.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You know what, she’s not going to ask about </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>what,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Hornet asks, “is it that requires the power of gods to fight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fighting</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the easy part,” says the individual present who typically deals with her problems by firing lasers at them. “Protecting oneself from Void poisoning, while still remaining capable of attack… the old Lord of Shades never left the Abyss themself. They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> much at an advantage there, and without extra power to devote to protecting ourselves from what only strengthened them…”</span>
</p><p><span>Holly perks up, and scribbles something furiously. </span><em><span>I’M VOID!</span></em> <em><span>I CAN HELP!</span></em></p><p>
  <span>“What,” says Soleil, slightly concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What,” says Hornet, more confused than anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What,” says Grimm, looking suddenly thoughtful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They wipe off what they’d already written and continue, </span>
  <em>
    <span>VOID KNOWS ME. VOID WON’T HURT ME. CAN PROTECT OTHERS.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Holly hesitates then adds, at the end, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>MAYBE.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Hornet repeats. “I would feel much better about this with more than a </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but… Grimm. Radiance. If neither of you must shield </span>
  <em>
    <span>yourselves</span>
  </em>
  <span> from the Void…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Soleil admits. “We would have a </span>
  <em>
    <span>better</span>
  </em>
  <span> chance of victory. But Holly, if you could shield others… you, Hornet, and others who are skilled fighters…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pair of idiots outside who, by all appearances, are attempting to find out how high into the air Tiso can launch Quirrel on his shield come to mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly, unfortunately, looks uneasy. </span>
  <em>
    <span>NEED TO PRACTICE. DON’T KNOW HOW MANY. WOULD FEEL BETTER WITH HELP.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“...but we can’t get you help,” Hornet concludes, “because there aren’t any other Vessels that aren’t…” She pauses, and corrects herself, “Part of the Lord of Shades already.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>DON’T KNOW. MIGHT BE ABLE TO SHIELD EVERYONE HERE BUT DON’T KNOW. IF GHOST WAS HERE—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Their writing cuts off abruptly, and their shoulders begin to shake. They do not cry, likely due to their sister’s presence where their tears would fall. Were it not for that…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ghost isn’t here anymore. We have to do what we can without them. We… may not have time to practice much, but we have </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> time. Don’t we?” She looks pleadingly at Soleil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So long as no one not formerly Infected becomes so again,” Soleil says hesitantly. “We will </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> to keep a careful eye on those who were already Infected. Bretta, and… someone else in Dirtmouth. I cannot remember who.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll have time to practice. We’ll have time to prepare.” Hornet stares off into space and murmurs, “If only I had </span>
  <em>
    <span>known…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly pats her back reassuringly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you don’t… I </span>
  <em>
    <span>believed</span>
  </em>
  <span> our… I believed him when he said you were not alive. That none of our siblings were alive. I believed him until Ghost, and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> believed him until they proved they were very much alive. And I… the fault is mine that you do not have a sibling to assist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did not kill </span>
  <em>
    <span>every</span>
  </em>
  <span> Vessel that escaped the Abyss,” Soleil says bluntly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merely every one that crossed my path,” Hornet hisses. Her sibling wraps their arm around her and pulls her close. “Holly, you should hate me. For what I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pull away, just briefly, to write: </span>
  <em>
    <span>NOT YOUR FAULT. DIDN’T KNOW.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still, I… every Vessel that survived is accounted for. Those </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t…” She bows her head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Something</span>
  </em>
  <span> got them all, even if it was not I. A Nosk in Deepnest, the guards outside the palace before the Infection returned. Something else might have killed our siblings, but without me, I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm clears his throat delicately. “Not to interrupt your self-loathing, but you aren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>entirely</span>
  </em>
  <span> correct.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All eyes go to him. He looks to Hornet, then Holly. He does not look at Soleil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly sums up the question with a written, </span>
  <em>
    <span>WHAT DO YOU MEAN?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not every surviving Vessel is accounted for. By you, that is. There is one other, taken from the Abyss before it was sealed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have another sibling,” Hornet says flatly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Their name is Ember, and they are a devoted member of my Troupe.” Grimm fixes Holly with a look. “They specifically requested to remain behind while the Ritual was underway, for this kingdom holds only bad memories for them. But if I request it… they will come.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm has always had a soft spot for children. A perhaps slightly disproportionate amount of new Troupe members are children for this reason, those with nowhere else to go or no one left to love them. So knowing now that he has a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Vessel</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his Troupe…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> what turned you against the Wyrm,” Soleil realizes. She realizes additionally, two seconds later, that she said this out loud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm glares at her. She’s half-expecting him to make a joke like he always does. Instead, he mutters, “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>think?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He would have, </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> have made light of the situation. She can practically hear him poking fun at the Wyrm’s bedroom habits instead, but he… didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For lack of a better description: she fucked up. And admitting it, even if it’s only to herself, does </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> make her feel any better about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nor does it make anyone else feel any better, either.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TV Tropes page: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/CrossingTheBurntBridge">Crossing the Burnt Bridge</a></p><p>we get some much-needed explanations. also, *casually slides one of my OCs into the plot* shh.</p><p>(<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28136451">this fic</a> may shed some light on said OC, if you missed it.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Call It Karma</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>And so it is that, as soon as Grimm is no longer in any immediate danger of keeling over, he departs for the Howling Cliffs. Presumably, what Ghost originally used to contact his Troupe is still there, somewhere. Presumably, Grimm knows where. Presumably, he can get there and back without too much trouble, and Soleil can’t exactly blame him for wanting to go alone. Hornet has her claws full watching Bretta, Holly is trying without much success to figure out who else in Dirtmouth was previously infected, and Soleil…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil would go with him, if he asked. But he doesn’t ask. So Soleil doesn’t offer. Instead, she focuses on the other, equally essential part of their plan: finding others willing to fight the Infection at its source.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dirtmouth, while composed of quite the interesting set of bugs, is not home to many fighters. Still, Soleil asks around, and she does eventually come around once again to the home Quirrel and Tiso share. Tiso at least, she knows, would leap at the opportunity to fight against the odds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet, after she explains the situation as much as she’s willing to, the first thing out of Tiso’s mouth is a quiet, emphatic, “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pardon me, I… can’t have heard you correctly,” Soleil says more desperately than she would like. “It sounded like you said no, but that couldn’t be right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you heard me right.” Tiso shrugs. His ever-present shield is angled up in his lap, and he leans on it when he continues, “Don’t get me wrong, this sounds very important and dangerous. But if you need someone to help save the world, there’s much better options. Aren’t you friends with Hornet and Holly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would like to think I am. However, we will need all the help we can get to stand even a chance at victory. And if we fail…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, the world ends? Doubt it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>world,</span>
  </em>
  <span> no. However, you should be prepared to leave Hallownest very quickly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tiso stares at her, blinks numbly under his hood. The next word that comes out of his mouth is a flat, “What.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil shifts anxiously from foot to foot. She admits, “Believe me, I wish as much as anyone else that the situation were not this serious. It should never have gotten this bad, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it did.” Quirrel, silent up until now, glances up from where he’s been polishing his nail and seemingly ignoring the conversation in the corner. “And you had something to do with it getting this bad, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The choking noise that escapes her mouth is unbecoming of </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> bug with something approaching dignity, never mind a goddess. “Well. I. That is to say… yes. I did. And I </span>
  <em>
    <span>cannot</span>
  </em>
  <span> fix it alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quirrel sets his nail down, leans back, and crosses his arms across his carapace. “And what is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>it</span>
  </em>
  <span> that needs to be fixed? Why the mystery? You’re afraid of something. And if you want </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> help—although I believe I could talk Tiso into it as well—then I want to know what your part in this bad situation was. I want to know </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> you need our help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a few, long moments, Soleil can do nothing but stare. Silently, she weighs her options. Will they </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> need Quirrel and Tiso at all? Could a group composed of two gods and three demigods destroy the Lord of Shades permanently? Could that group even destroy the Lord of Shades </span>
  <em>
    <span>temporarily?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The odds would </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> be high. They wouldn’t be much higher even </span>
  <em>
    <span>with</span>
  </em>
  <span> two mortals, capable though she knows they are. But any chance could be the difference between life and death, between victory and defeat, between what was meant to stop the Wyrm spiraling further and further out of control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, then, they will need some help. Could they get help from elsewhere? No others in Dirtmouth seem to possess much skill in combat, regrettably, and there are few skilled fighters in Hallownest now that aren’t either Infected or already dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the only ones Soleil knows where to find are right in front of her. Tiso is unlikely to agree unless Quirrel does, and Quirrel is uncharacteristically stern, uncompromising.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He knows,</span>
  </em>
  <span> her thoughts whisper, but he doesn’t, not for sure, or he wouldn’t be asking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I created the Infection,” she says before she can stop herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tiso looks at Quirrel. When the pillbug speaks again, it’s in a low, angry voice, and it doesn’t escape her notice that his nail is within easy grasping distance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What,” says Quirrel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I created the Infection,” Soleil repeats, forcing herself to look the pillbug in the eyes. “I no longer have control over it. The entity that </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> is called the Lord of Shades, most likely killed Hornet’s sibling Ghost, and will destroy Hallownest if we do not stop it—and I say </span>
  <em>
    <span>we</span>
  </em>
  <span> because </span>
  <em>
    <span>I cannot do it alone.</span>
  </em>
  <span> If I could, believe me, I would not drag anyone else into this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa, you did </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tiso blurts, drawing her attention away from Quirrel. “The fuck? Why? </span>
  <em>
    <span>How?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you must know, it was an ill-fated attempt at revenge. As for how—” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“How</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t matter,” Quirrel mutters. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Why</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t really matter. None of it changes the fact that you—</span>
  <em>
    <span>you—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil looks back at him, just in time for </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> to slam into her face. Something cracks. She stumbles backwards. Her back hits the wall next to the door as stars dance across her eyes, and Quirrel stands there, claws still balled up into fists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He… punched her, apparently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can’t really argue that logic. She supposes she should be grateful that he didn’t hit any harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You killed my mom,” Quirrel hisses, “and so—</span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> many other bugs besides. For </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Revenge? On </span>
  <em>
    <span>who?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Nothing you can say or do could justify that. But please, what </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> you have to say for yourself?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil raises a claw to her face. It comes back wet, and she’s still seeing stars and </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a good way. She could probably spare the power to heal this in an instant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She does not. Instead, she says, “If you are referring to Monomon the Teacher, I, personally, did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> kill her. It was the one calling himself king who enacted the seals meant to keep her and two others asleep forevermore, in a shallow imitation of death—and the one you call Ghost who ultimately broke that seal, killing—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the Dreamer plan would not have been necessary in the first place without the Infection. This entire </span>
  <em>
    <span>kingdom</span>
  </em>
  <span> would be in a much better place without the Infection.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not the entire kingdom,” Soleil mutters. “You thought it odd that a moth was still in Hallownest? Tell me, do you remember what happened to the moths?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I remember that they were hit hardest by the Infec—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>not!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Light flares to life behind her, unbidden. She mentally wrestles it away as fast as she can, but not fast enough. Quirrel takes a wary step back, and his nail is in his claws now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, as usual, exercising her powers takes a cost far too great—even when it’s unintentional. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Particularly</span>
  </em>
  <span> when it’s unintentional. It’s with far more exhaustion in her words than she would like that she repeats, “They were not hit by the Infection at all. They were immune. Tell me, have you ever </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen</span>
  </em>
  <span> an infected moth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not that I remember, which is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> saying very much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quirrel,” Tiso says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let us pretend for a moment that you’re not full of, pardon my Deepspeech, </span>
  <em>
    <span>complete and utter bugshit.</span>
  </em>
  <span> If the Infection didn’t affect moths, then </span>
  <em>
    <span>where did they go?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quirrel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were one of the Teacher’s archivists, weren’t you?” Soleil raises an eyebrow, and isn’t entirely successful at not wincing at the pain her eye explodes into at the motion. “You have a mind of your own. I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>certain</span>
  </em>
  <span> you can figure it out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is nothing </span>
  <em>
    <span>to</span>
  </em>
  <span> figure out,” Quirrel says. “You—” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Quirrel!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tiso says, louder this time. Quirrel spins to face him, nail still in his grip. “She… might be telling the truth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> has never been in debate. Who would lie about </span>
  <em>
    <span>this?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Which means that she…” Quirrel shudders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which means that she’s telling the truth about wanting to fix it,” Tiso continues. He looks to Soleil and adds, “I’d like an explanation. And my partner deserves an apology at the </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> least. Quirrel, put the nail </span>
  <em>
    <span>down.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Quirrel closes his eyes, and lets the nail fall from his grip, clattering to the floor. That’s a relief—not that he needs a nail to do serious damage, her eye is still stinging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil—the Radiance—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Soleil</span>
  </em>
  <span> sighs. In a small voice, she says, “I am sorry you were caught in this. I am sorry </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> was caught in this, for I falsely assumed the Wyrm calling himself Hallownest’s king would </span>
  <em>
    <span>care</span>
  </em>
  <span> about literally anyone save himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tiso sighs. “You know what, that’s good enough. Can I ask a few questions?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quirrel glares at her wordlessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will regardless of my answer to your first,” Soleil says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, true, you’re not wrong. So… what happened to the moths?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s different, thinking about it when she’s not the one offering. When she’s not angrily forcing the matter, when she has to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> about what he did to them—but of course </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> never did it personally. He ordered others to, and if anyone questioned him…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A particular bug comes to mind. Not a moth, but close to one, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>furious</span>
  </em>
  <span> over what happened to that moth. And yet, it was not he who struck first against his king.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Cursed are those who turn against the king,</span>
  </em>
  <span> indeed. He’d come close, with her help. If he’d succeeded, if </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’d succeeded, things might have been very different. The Infection would no longer have needed to exist, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He killed them,” Soleil whispers. “He killed them all. The Infection… it was a disproportionate response, and given what I know now, one doomed to failure from the start. But it was not an unjustified one. The lie that moths were more vulnerable was one of many lies told by the </span>
  <em>
    <span>king—”</span>
  </em>
  <span> (She says </span>
  <em>
    <span>king</span>
  </em>
  <span> the way another might refer to a compact ball of dung.) “—to hide his crimes. I am not blameless. I do not </span>
  <em>
    <span>claim</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be blameless. But I could not stand aside and do nothing then, and I cannot stand aside and do nothing now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She takes a deep breath, and forces herself to look Tiso at least in the eyes as she continues, “I am not asking your forgiveness, or your understanding. All I ask is that you help me keep more innocent bugs from dying to something that should never have gotten this bad. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> should never have allowed it to become this bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tiso looks at Quirrel, who looks back at him uneasily. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d assume yes,” Quirrel says tersely. “We—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll help you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll help you,” Tiso repeats, more emphatically this time, and pointedly ignoring the aghast look Quirrel is giving him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“if</span>
  </em>
  <span> you tell everyone you’ve hurt that it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> that hurt them, and make what amends you can once Hallownest is no longer in danger of being destroyed from… your mistakes, wasn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil sighs. “I can do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It will be </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> from easy. But it will be necessary, for more reasons than one. Caring about others, after all, was where the Wyrm fell short of the perfect being he believed himself to be. He just couldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought</span>
  </em>
  <span> for a long time, while trapped in the Black Egg with no one but Holly for company, that her problem had been caring too </span>
  <em>
    <span>much.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Perhaps, if she hadn’t cared as much as she did, the Wyrm never would have targeted her moths. Perhaps they would have chosen him over her—but at least they would have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do it. Perhaps, if she hadn’t cared as much as she did, she would have merely let it happen and sought out her brother, and a fresh start.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her problem </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> caring too much, but somewhere—somewhere after being able to at least walk in dreams again, though still physically bound to Holly—somewhere, she stopped caring too much and started not caring enough. And that… that </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be fixed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wouldn’t do to become the Wyrm all over again. That wouldn’t do at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I am sorry,” she adds, even as she moves toward the door. “I… did not know Monomon. I wish I had. She seemed like an admirable individual.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Quirrel mutters, “she was.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil does not mention that, were it not for the Wyrm’s decision for Monomon </span>
  <em>
    <span>specifically</span>
  </em>
  <span> to become a Dreamer, and that the seals must kill the Dreamers upon breaking, she could still be here. Now is not the time to point out that much of what Quirrel blamed her for was, in fact, the Wyrm’s fault.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Wyrm’s fault.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(She’s done </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough</span>
  </em>
  <span> on her own. She’d appreciate not being blamed for his crimes, too.)</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't know what she <i>expected</i> to happen after admitting she made the goddamn Infection, but uh.</p><p>at least she's <i>somewhat</i> admitting that she fucked up? progress.</p><p>TV Tropes page: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/CallItKarma">Call It Karma</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Take My Hand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Soleil closes the door behind her, closes her eyes, and lets out a relieved sigh. In retrospect, and for the most part, that could have gone much worse. The important thing is that she accomplished what she set out to do: securing the aid of both Tiso and Quirrel, when the time comes, to fight the Lord of Shades.</p><p>They won’t be enough. But they’re a start. And all it cost was admitting how completely <em> horribly </em> she’d fucked up this kingdom, to the face of one of the bugs most affected by her actions.</p><p>(She can’t regret striking back, in some form. She <em> can </em> regret not striking back at the Wyrm directly, early on when she still had the chance. Before he replaced his guards in the physical realm with those cursed machinations of Void shaped into his image, and before he stopped sleeping entirely to prevent her attacking him in his dreams.)</p><p>Soleil leans back against the door, and considers. Hornet shouldn’t be back from Bretta’s for a few more hours, Grimm should be back from Kingdom’s Edge at any minute now, and Holly…</p><p>She opens her eyes, only to find herself staring directly at one seemingly expressionless mask. They stare at her, and despite not being able to physically manipulate their mask in any way, somehow manage to convey a distinct sense of concern.</p><p>“Oh. Hello, Holly,” she says faintly. “I didn’t expect you to be back yet.”</p><p>They cross their arms, or they do so with their singular arm at least, and continue staring her down.</p><p>“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. It isn’t as if…” She blinks, hard. “It isn’t as if it was undeserved.”</p><p>Immediately, Holly reaches out and pulls her into a hug. </p><p>“I… may have needed that. Thank you.”</p><p>They pull away, pat her on the shoulder, then cross the room to retrieve their chalkboard. Holly scribbles something on it, then turns to show her the words, <em> ANY LUCK? </em></p><p>“Tiso and Quirrel will assist with the Lord of Shades,” Soleil says briskly. “That is what matters right now. Though, if you’re back here… you were more successful than I?”</p><p><em> SLY, </em> they write, and underline the word. Or… is it a name? They take in her confused expression and add, in smaller runes underneath it, <em> THE SHOPKEEPER. </em></p><p>“I still don’t know who that is, I’m afraid.”</p><p>
  <em> TINY MISERLY FLY? </em>
</p><p>“On second thought, I know exactly who that is. I didn’t think he lived here, I thought…” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what I thought, perhaps that he was a traveler from beyond Hallownest’s borders. There have seemed to be quite a few of those lately. He is the…”</p><p>
  <em> LOCAL SHOPKEEPER, YES. TRIED EXTREMELY HARD TO SELL ME A LUMAFLY LANTERN. DID NOT BELIEVE I COULD SEE IN THE DARK. </em>
</p><p>Soleil stares at them. “You can see in the dark?”</p><p>
  <em> NOT IMPORTANT. ARE YOU OKAY? </em>
</p><p>They stare her down in turn, and… she can’t lie to them. Not when they already know the answer just as well as she does.</p><p>“Of course not,” Soleil says in much the same way as another bug might comment on the weather or lack thereof. “Hornet is watching both of them?”</p><p><em> AT ONCE, YES. NOT ENTIRELY SURE HOW SHE MANAGES IT WHEN THEY AREN’T TOGETHER. PROBABLY SPITE. </em> Holly pauses in their writing long enough for Soleil to read it and muffle a laugh, then wipes it away and adds, <em> SHOULD GRIMM BE BACK BY NOW? IT IS GETTING DARK. </em></p><p>Soleil glances at the door. He… should be back by now, shouldn’t he? Traveling over the Howling Cliffs cannot take very long even without the aid of flight, and Grimm <em> can </em> fly. He isn’t leaving Hallownest entirely, either—merely going far enough to call back his Troupe. </p><p>And it <em> is </em> getting dark—or dark <em> er </em> than it normally is, though it never is truly bright in Dirtmouth. Some light must shine in from the surface high above, but this far down, it doesn’t help very much. The days can be summed up as <em> dark </em> and <em> darker, </em> and while she hadn’t noticed (a simple mistake, given that she glows when she’s anxious) it is definitely quite firmly in the <em> darker </em> stage.</p><p>“He likely stayed the night on the cliffs, with his Troupe,” Soleil decides. “I cannot blame him for not wanting to face me again. I… would not want to face me either.”</p><p><em> I DO NOT BELIEVE THAT IS IT. </em> Holly hesitates, then continues, <em> YOU ARE LIKELY CORRECT. HE IS YOUR BROTHER, AND YOU KNOW HIM FAR BETTER THAN I. </em></p><p>“I’m not so sure I do. I’m… not so sure I ever did.” Soleil’s breath catches in her throat, and she blinks hard. “He’ll be back in the morning. I am quite certain of that, and you’ll get to meet your sibling.”</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Grimm is not back in the morning. Soleil is alone in the abandoned home they share, though when she steps outside Holly waves from where they sit atop the roof.</p><p>Hornet is in their lap. Soleil doesn’t think she imagines the snoring coming from above—and that would explain why Holly has scarcely budged except very quietly and carefully.</p><p>They retrieve their chalkboard and angle it so it’s readable from below. In bigger letters than normal, it reads, <em> SISTER NEEDED REST. CAN SENSE IF INFECTION GETS WORSE NEARBY. FIND YOUR BROTHER. </em></p><p>Soleil blinks up at them. “What,” she says flatly.”</p><p>They turn their chalkboard, balancing it carefully between their leg and Hornet’s ever-present mask, and circle something on it several times. When they display it again, it’s with the <em> FIND YOUR BROTHER </em> circled.</p><p>“He… hasn’t returned?”</p><p>Even though she already has a bad feeling about this, it only worsens when Holly shakes their head. They look meaningfully to the west, towards the cliffs—then back at Soleil.</p><p>“Fine,” Soleil says. “You <em> do </em> know he would be much happier to see you than me, yes?” </p><p>Holly nods. They do not budge. Hornet snores louder—likely an effect of the… <em> odd </em> position she’s napping in. </p><p><em> “Fine. </em> If he decides to set me on fire on sight, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”</p><p>Instead of waiting for an answer, she looks into the air, considering the wind. It blows away from the Howling Cliffs today, towards Dirtmouth, as it almost always does. Flying <em> to </em> the cliffs would be an exercise in futility at the moment. Flying <em> back </em> should be significantly easier, so if Grimm is in fact perfectly fine and is less than pleased to see her, she can abscond in a timely manner.</p><p>Grimm is probably fine. She shouldn’t bother. If he’s fine, he certainly won’t appreciate her arrival. He won’t appreciate her help even if he needs it.</p><p>And yet—what if he <em> does? </em> He was barely healed when he set off. The cliffs were treacherous <em> before </em> the Wyrm’s enchantments were put in place.</p><p>If he needs her help, and she finds that out too late—she’ll just have to add it to her rapidly growing list of failures past and present. Just another thing she should have done, could have done, and didn’t.</p><p>(With that in mind—she can’t <em> not </em> go. If he’s fine, she’ll deal with the consequences of that when they come.)</p><p>Soleil takes a deep breath, and looks to Holly again.</p><p><em> GOOD LUCK, </em> their tablet reads.</p><p>“Thank you,” she says, and starts walking. Maybe the wind will let up enough for her to fly at least some of the distance there.</p><hr/><p> </p><p>The wind does not let up enough for her to fly some of the distance there. The wind does not let up enough for her to fly <em> any </em> of the distance there, which is why hours later, she’s only just pulling herself to the top of what’s known these days as King’s Pass.</p><p>(It had been Hallownest’s Welcome, once—a private joke among those who knew how unwelcoming the land was to those unfamiliar. The name <em> Hallownest, </em> after all, had long predated the Wyrm calling himself king, and the pass named after him, likely <em> by </em> him.)</p><p>(Egotistical bastard. He didn’t even come to Hallownest that way.)</p><p>The wind—really, more of a gale at this point—picks up more just as she reaches the top, threatening to blow her right off. She ducks her head and glares into the gale. She does not win her impromptu staring contest with the wind, mostly because the wind is not in possession of eyes to blink and therefore lose.</p><p>Soleil only glares into the wind harder, one last time, before turning to the edge. The faint lights of Dirtmouth can be seen from up here, clustered together and bright, and oh so far away.</p><p>Hornet and Holly are down there. So is Bretta, and nearly every other still living and uninfected bug in this kingdom, so very few of whom can fight. Soleil supposes it is a possibility that there are others down in Hallownest proper—and to survive down there, they <em> must </em> be able to fight—but given the current circumstances of what is going <em> on </em> down there, Soleil is doubtful that there are many.</p><p>Perhaps the mantises. Yes—<em> certainly </em> the mantises, Soleil suspects nothing short of the world ending could bring them to their knees, and even then they would find a way to come crawling back. The mantises lived in Hallownest long before Soleil ever did, and the mantises will <em> still </em> live in Hallownest long after she is long gone.</p><p>The issue with that, of course, would be securing their help. The mantises thrive, generation after generation, <em> by </em> fiercely defending their own territory from all but those who have gained their respect.</p><p>(To this day, Soleil isn’t entirely sure how one gains the respect of the mantises. She’s <em> tried. </em> But so too did the Wyrm, and they liked him even less, so—barring a few notable exceptions who actively sought out her Infection—she left the mantises alone.)</p><p>Beyond them… Hornet would likely know better than she would. Something to ask about, once she’s found Grimm. Of course he’s fine, but—she can’t picture what would have him taking so long.</p><p>He has to be fine. And yet Soleil still can’t help but shiver as she turns back into the wind. She cups her claws around her mouth and calls, as loudly as she dares, “Grimm?”</p><p>There is no answer. She doesn’t know why she expected one. But she has a lot of ground to cover, and a limited amount of time to do it, and—how much time can it take to search the cliffs, anyway?</p><p>...okay, she knows the answer to this one, it’s a not insignificant amount of time given all the <em> caves </em> and the wind making it less than easy to climb back up, never mind <em> fly </em> back up.</p><p>But he has to be here somewhere. He wouldn’t have just… left.</p><p>Unless he did, but… he wouldn’t. Would he?</p><p>He wouldn’t. This time, she doesn’t call out verbally, but with her mind: <em> “GRIMM?” </em></p><p>If he’s anywhere in the general vicinity, he’ll hear it. If he doesn’t, that means he’s either unconscious, or… he left.</p><p>(He… wouldn’t have left. If not for her, then for everyone <em> else </em> here he cared about. Hornet, Bretta, Holly… the vessel that the Lord of Shades had been before.)</p><p>(But he could have, and… he’d been rather quick to leave for the Cliffs, hadn’t he? He wouldn’t have. But what if he—)</p><p>
  <em> “Soleil? What… where are you? What are you doing here?” </em>
</p><p><em> “Up top the cliffs,” </em> she responds, and makes a slightly futile attempt to keep the relief out of her words. <em> “Where are </em>you?”</p><p>Just as relief bled over from her end, so too does something distinctly recognizable as annoyance, with a hint of embarrassment, from his. <em> “Clearly near enough for this. Why does it matter?” </em></p><p>
  <em> “...because it has been nearly two days and we were getting worried about you?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “We? I sincerely doubt that.” </em>
</p><p><em> “Just because I have made some… questionable decisions recently does not mean I do not care about you. </em> I <em> was, and am, worried about you. Do you require my—” </em></p><p><em> “You think just apologizing can fix everything,” </em> Grimm says in such a harsh tone that Soleil takes a step back and winces. <em> “That if you say you are sorry, things just go back to the way they were before, no matter how many times you have hurt others before. Well, </em> dear sister, <em> it doesn’t. Some things can’t be fixed. You honestly think I would trust you after what you did to this kingdom? After what you nearly did to </em>me?”</p><p><em> “I…” </em> Soleil hesitates. She takes a seat on a nearby rock, and only then does she say, <em> “No, I don’t expect you to trust me. Not after that. How could I? I just… do not wish for things to get even worse than they already are.” </em></p><p>
  <em> “...you are not referring to Hallownest, are you?” </em>
</p><p>“Not entirely,” she says aloud. And then, realizing that the wind is very likely stealing away her words long before they reach Grimm, she repeats them mentally. <em> “I know I may never be able to fully repair things. I… would not hold it against you, if you couldn’t forgive me. I have… not entirely forgiven myself.” </em></p><p><em> “Oh? What happened to your </em> plague <em> being, what was it, fully justified?” </em></p><p><em> “...doing </em> something <em> was justified. But the end did </em> not <em> justify the means. I… in retrospect, there were many other things I could have done, but I only saw one option then that had a chance of working, and I—I took it. I know it doesn’t excuse me. I know it doesn’t excuse </em> anything. <em> But maybe, if I can fix this before it destroys what little is left… it won’t begin to make up for what I’ve done, but maybe it can be a start.” </em></p><p>There is silence for one second, two, three, twenty. Then, at last, Grimm says, <em> “You are just above Hallownest’s Welcome?” </em></p><p>
  <em> “Yes. I… hadn’t thought you recalled the old name.” </em>
</p><p><em> “Walk to the edge, and look do—” </em> </p><p>Rock audibly cracks, and—she hears Grimm scream, and not just in her mind. In a flash of gold and a swish of feathers, she’s there, at the edge, looking down. Grimm is hanging onto a ledge by one wing, a ledge that he can’t <em> possibly </em> have been hanging onto like that the entire time he’s been gone.</p><p><em> “It was wider until about two seconds ago </em> ,” Grimm supplies. His red eyes meet hers, and she’s—surprised, almost, to see them filled with fear. <em> “I thought I’d just… wait a bit…” </em></p><p>“You… <em> know </em> you can teleport,” Soleil says.</p><p>“Not… to somewhere I can’t see.”</p><p>“You can <em> literally fly.” </em></p><p>“Um… not quite at the moment.” Grimm sounds almost embarrassed—and it’s then that she notices the wing hanging limply at his side. “I may have… fallen a little.”</p><p>“How did you even <em> do </em> that to yourself?”</p><p>More rock crumbles away from the ledge. Grimm grips it tighter with his usable wing and says, “If you <em> must </em> know, the wind blew me back from higher up, knocked me up against a wall altogether harder than wind should be able to, and then I barely managed to grab this ledge before falling <em> all the way down. </em> A survivable fall, I’m certain, but it would— <em> hurt! </em>”</p><p>Still more of the ledge crumbles. Soleil wastes no more time. She kneels to lean over the edge, and extends her own wing as far as she can.</p><p>It’s not far enough to reach him. </p><p>“I can’t… you’re going to have to teleport a little higher,” Soleil says. “I’ll pull you up. I promise. All you have to do is reach out.”</p><p>Grimm eyes her warily—but in a flash of scarlet light, he’s gone from the ledge, and instead several feet higher in the air than Soleil is. She leaps out to catch him, then teleports back before the wind can blow them both back to Dirtmouth, and…</p><p>Both moths (or moth-adjacent gods, anyway, but who is really that invested in the difference) tumble to the barren ground.</p><p>“Urrgh,” Grimm says. He rolls over, holding his injured wing to his abdomen.</p><p>Soleil stumbles to her feet, glaring more intently into the wind. Only when she’s sure it won’t blow them both off <em> again </em> does she turn to Grimm, and offer him a claw once more. “Grimm, are you… okay?”</p><p>He laughs, actually <em> laughs, </em> and takes it, shaking himself off. “No. But I do believe I am more okay than I was.”</p><p>“Yes, no longer hanging for your life off a ledge can do that to you.”</p><p>“The ledge was <em> fine </em> until it started crumbling under my weight. And… I was not referring to that.”</p><p>“Ah.” Soleil looks away. “I <em> am </em> sorry.”</p><p>“I cannot say it’s <em> okay, </em> but…” When she looks back at him, there’s the smallest hint of a smile on his face, though it fades quickly. “At least you're trying."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>.............you know, it's just occurred to me exactly who they'll be passing by on their way to (re)summon the Grimm Troupe. that's probably a good thing.</p><p>TV Tropes page: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TakeMyHand">Take My Hand</a></p><p>anyway, in only somewhat related news, Hornet is a cat, in this essay I will</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. The Power of Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The gale only grows stronger the deeper they proceed into the cliffs, making significant progress difficult and flight in any direction that isn’t back to Dirtmouth impossible. It doesn’t exactly </span>
  <em>
    <span>help</span>
  </em>
  <span> that Grimm is uncertain where this lantern is, only that it is reasonably deep in a cave </span>
  <em>
    <span>somewhere</span>
  </em>
  <span> in this cliffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, of course, the cliffs have more than a few caves, and even more… </span>
  <em>
    <span>interesting</span>
  </em>
  <span> landmarks before those. Soleil and Grimm both stop and stare at a gravestone with an epitaph reading simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>HERE LIES GORB, THE GREAT MIND.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil looks at Grimm, who shrugs helplessly, and they keep going. That </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> isn’t Grimm’s lantern, nor anything connected to it, nor is it even in a cave. (Soleil would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious, but if GORB, THE GREAT MIND has lingered on after death, they do not show themself—and she isn’t about to force a resting spirit back to this world out of mere </span>
  <em>
    <span>curiosity.)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The first actual cave they find is deep enough to be promising. Soleil calls an orb of light into being before it gets too dark within, and they walk. And walk. And walk some more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It does not escape Soleil’s notice that, at some point after they entered the cave, Grimm began to limp again. So it is that when the cave ends not in an unlit brazier, but what appears to be a hut nestled into the rock, Soleil shakes her head when he goes to turn around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to rest,” Soleil says. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Can</span>
  </em>
  <span> you even heal yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In theory,” Grimm says unconvincingly. “I can keep going. We shall find the brazier… eventually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how long from now will </span>
  <em>
    <span>eventually</span>
  </em>
  <span> be? I can’t push myself forever either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hypocrite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, this has been established, but if you’re going to let me care about you again then you’re going to have to deal with me making sure you don’t collapse from exhaustion or pain while ignoring my own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm splutters indignantly, and manages to get out, “If you fall unconscious from your own stupidity, I’m leaving you behind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your vote of confidence is appreciated. Come on. Maybe whomever’s house this was fell to…” Soleil winces, and amends, “Maybe they left.”</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The owner of the house had not, in fact, fallen to the Infection—</span>
  <em>
    <span>either</span>
  </em>
  <span> Infection. Nor had he left, for he is in fact quietly sitting in the middle of the floor, only to look up at their arrival.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil, master of all things social interaction, stares dumbly. “Ah. I… was not expecting someone to be living out here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rather bulky bug snorts. “You are not the first. I was not expecting visitors, though you are certainly not unwelcome. Come to learn my nail art?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your what.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What my sister </span>
  <em>
    <span>means,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Grimm cuts in, “is that while we appreciate your offer, neither of us really… use nails, exactly. We were merely looking for a place to spend the night before moving on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil glares at him. Grimm pretends not to notice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… see? You are welcome to rest here, so long as you don’t mind me asking a few questions about the outside world. I… do not get out very much.” The bug inclines his head in a nod and continues, “I am Nailmaster Mato. You are?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Soleil, that idiot is Grimm—” (It is now Grimm’s turn to glare at her, and her turn to pretend not she does not see it.) “—and for the record, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> use nail...s. Though I have never heard of a nail art, nor any nailmasters for that matter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm snorts. “Those don’t count. He means a real, </span>
  <em>
    <span>physical</span>
  </em>
  <span> nail.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what is </span>
  <em>
    <span>so different</span>
  </em>
  <span> about </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Nailmaster Mato, clearing his throat to draw their attention, seems to have picked up on at least some of the tension in the room. Although to be calling it </span>
  <em>
    <span>tension</span>
  </em>
  <span> would be like calling Greenpath </span>
  <em>
    <span>green,</span>
  </em>
  <span> or the Abyss </span>
  <em>
    <span>dark:</span>
  </em>
  <span> perhaps the single biggest understatement of Soleil’s entire and rather longer than average life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to make hot cocoa,” the nailmaster declares. “Would either of you like any?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clearly Grimm’s sweet tooth hasn’t gone anywhere, as he visibly perks up. “I can help,” he offers. “I’m good with fire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once again: a </span>
  <em>
    <span>huge</span>
  </em>
  <span> understatement. And this one was actually spoken. Soleil bites back a comment to that effect and instead asks, “Where did you get </span>
  <em>
    <span>cocoa,</span>
  </em>
  <span> in this…” Helplessly, she waves a wing out the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Infection? The state of this kingdom in general?” Mato guesses, and if he sees the way she flinches at the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>infection</span>
  </em>
  <span> he is kind enough to ignore it. “I don’t go outside </span>
  <em>
    <span>often,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and when I do I don’t go particularly far, but my brother lives in Greenpath. I am… not </span>
  <em>
    <span>entirely</span>
  </em>
  <span> certain of what it is he does down there, but he grows cocoa and pays the uninfected mosskin to bring it up to me. I suspect he would do the same for… ah, nevermind. Haven’t heard from him in some time, but I’m quite certain he’s doing fine on his own. I have plenty of cocoa to last until I hear from him again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil looks away and tries to hide the guilty look on her face. She’s not sure there </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> any uninfected mosskin anymore. She’s not sure there have been any since before her Infection ended and this new one began where it stopped. (Although, is there really any difference, save in color? She’s not sure there is.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(If she tried, if the Lord of Shades was incapacitated, she might be able to take the Infection back, if only for an instant. But—what would that do to all those already Infected? What would that do to whatever is left of Holly and Hornet’s sibling?)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(What would that do to </span>
  <em>
    <span>her?)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can help,” Grimm repeats, stubbornly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you want to,” Mato says cheerfully. He looks, slightly less cheerfully, to Soleil. “Do you…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” she says flatly, before realizing how poorly that could be interpreted. And Grimm is glaring at her again. Lovely. “I… do not think I would be much help,” she tries, and while Mato’s expression softens, Grimm’s only intensifies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you would be, but perhaps it is better you don’t if that is the case.” Even so, Mato gives her an encouraging nod before departing back the way they’d come in. Grimm does not even look at her when he goes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil takes a seat, and tries to wait. But to wait is to let her mind dwell on things that she would rather not dwell on, </span>
  <em>
    <span>thank you very much,</span>
  </em>
  <span> so with a thought and a flash of light, she’s seated on the floor much closer to the doorway—and more importantly, within earshot of whatever is going on in the other room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Normally,” Mato remarks, “I would take my tinder and do this outside. Better safe than sorry, gives me a chance to get some exercise. But if you can ignite this—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a brilliant flash of red through the doorway, and Mato makes a startled noise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s this,” comes the dry rasp of her brother’s voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wow,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mato says appreciatively. “That is… something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm chuckles dryly. “I do my best. What now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We set the kettle on the fire, wait until it starts whistling, then divide this cocoa powder—” (There is the distinct rustling of a package.) “—between these three mugs once it’s ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. Time to wait, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed.” Silence, for a moment, except for the faint bubbling of the kettle. “I mentioned my brother Sheo, yes? He grew this cocoa, and likely quite a bit else besides. I have not visited him in a very long time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have a third brother… or perhaps </span>
  <em>
    <span>had,</span>
  </em>
  <span> given that neither of us have heard from Oro in far longer than I haven’t heard from Sheo.” Mato hums to himself. “We did not part on good terms, though I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm sighs. “What did he do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish to share that, I suspect, no more than you wish to share the cause of your own strife with your sister.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” Grimm takes the hint. “My apologies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That being said—if you would like to discuss it, while leaving out specifics as you see fit, I have no qualms with listening and attempting to help in what way I can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would you…” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Care,</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the word he doesn’t say, and while Soleil cannot see what makes him trail off, whatever it is makes him sigh and say, “Alright. She… did some things, that I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> be elaborating on because it is not my place to bring up her role in them. She thinks, because she </span>
  <em>
    <span>apologized,</span>
  </em>
  <span> that it’s—fine, now. It is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t, actually, but the thought is appreciated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you insist.” Mato hums to himself. “Why isn’t it fine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence, for a long moment. Then a single, flabbergasted, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“What?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am asking a genuine question. Was what she did so heinous that she simply cannot be forgiven? If that were the case, I do not believe you would be traveling with her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> idea,” Grimm grumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you are, despite that. Aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is she trying to fix… whatever it is that she did?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm hesitates, though he eventually does admit, “...yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is more than Oro ever did,” Mato says, with a harshness that isn’t directed at Grimm. “If… you don’t wish to answer this verbally, you do not have to, though answering this for yourself may be useful. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span> isn’t it fine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” Grimm hesitates longer, this time. “I don’t know. She hurt </span>
  <em>
    <span>so many,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but I… now that I know her reasons, I can’t hate her for it. I couldn’t hate her for it before I knew why. I tried. I couldn’t, because… she felt like she had no other option. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> options, a few, but I know I contributed to that feeling of desperation by </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> being there when she needed me. Not… a word of this to her. But…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But?” Mato prompts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Soleil supposes they think she’d be mature enough not to eavesdrop. They would also be wrong. She’s expecting something about how he really never can trust her again, after what she did—and in all honesty, she’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>deserve</span>
  </em>
  <span> that.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to trust her,” Grimm admits, and Soleil can hardly stop herself from screaming, </span>
  <em>
    <span>WHAT?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… want to trust her,” he repeats, quieter this time. “I miss my sister. She’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she is, and I know </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> can’t be easy either. But I can’t forget what she did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need to forget to forgive,” Mato says solemnly. “Though you do not have to forgive, either, if you do not want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and that is what hurts the most. It—” He’s cut off by the kettle whistling. In an instant, Soleil is back where she was, eyes closed and pretending to have fallen asleep. (Because she would have, if she’d stayed sitting there.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cracks an eye open when footsteps come back into the room. Mato is holding one steaming mug of hot cocoa. Grimm is holding two, and offers her one wordlessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t realize I was tired enough to nod off,” Soleil jokes as she takes it. “Grimm… thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He holds her gaze, and simply nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“So,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mato says pointedly, “I have bedrolls for visitors in the back here… </span>
  <em>
    <span>somewhere,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and it is certainly rather late. If… either of you wish to learn my nail art, let me know in the morning.” </span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soleil is not one to sleep in, and never has been. It is not a surprise, then, that she wakes to Grimm snoring on the other side of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is, however, a surprise that he is actually sleeping on the floor for once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is also a surprise, though not an unwelcome one, that any memory of whatever horrible thing her mind conjured up last night is suspiciously blank. She gives Grimm a look. He keeps snoring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she says quietly, and then looks around for Mato.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s another surprise: Mato is not only not in the room, but apparently he is an earlier riser than </span>
  <em>
    <span>the Radiance, Goddess of Light and Dreams.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Though right now, she is really only Soleil, and that is… really for the best.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What good did </span>
  <em>
    <span>the Radiance, Goddess of Light and Dreams</span>
  </em>
  <span> ever do for </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Nothing, that’s what. Absolutely nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right now, just Soleil is easier. Hurts less. And so it is just Soleil who summons just one of her blades and goes outside. Mato </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> there, with a massive nail, striking back and forth at an invisible and intangible foe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning,” she says, once he stops to breathe. “I may not know the first thing about nailmasters or nail arts, but… I would like to learn yours, if you’d be willing to teach me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil, after all, is curious. And maybe swinging something approximating a nail around will help everything hurt less, too.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TV Tropes page: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ThePowerOfFamily">The Power of Family</a></p><p>tfw a couple of literal gods have no idea what's up with Gorb either. I mean, a friend of mine has a theory that Gorb is a Wyrm and while that's an interesting one, it's (probably) not gonna be explored here, so for the sake of this fic, Gorb's just weird.</p><p>anyway, Mato was absolutely a surprise, but he's a welcome one to be sure. more Dadmaster is always good. the hot cocoa thing was sparked by my love of hot chocolate, and then some rapid brainstorming to figure out how Mato could have hot chocolate. thanks Sheo.</p><p>side note, if any of y'all missed it: took a break from this fic to post one with some Xero backstory (and Markoth backstory as well, interestingly enough) and it is full of angst and if I had to cry writing it I'm going to try my best to make y'all cry reading it too. here it is, and if you're wondering, yes it is <i>absolutely</i> canon for this particular universe: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29490207/chapters/72443172">Almost Had It All</a></p><p>(actually, anything in this series is set in the same... fic canon? fic universe? ficiverse? I dunno I should stop rambling in the author's notes. thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! &lt;3)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. For Want of a Nail</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Putting some distance between the training and Mato’s hut is likely for the best, for multiple reasons. The first, and most obvious, is to keep any stray nails—Soleil’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>or</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mato’s—from damaging his home. Additionally, further down the tunnel from Mato’s hut is closer to the bitter chill of the cliffside winds, and therefore cooler without being outside and exposed to the cliffs themselves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Mato stops, </span>
  <em>
    <span>massive</span>
  </em>
  <span> nail hefted on his shoulder, and holds up a claw for her to stop behind him. Soleil does so, watching curiously as he continues for a few more paces, and then extends his nail. Its tip nearly touches the dirt as he crouches slightly lower to the ground, and—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Truthfully, Soleil isn’t certain how to describe what it is Mato does. The best she can come up with is that he hums, quietly at first, but then louder and louder. White-hot energy sparks off him and his nail, but she only catches a glimpse of that before he unleashes it. The nail art.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nail art itself, which appears to consist of him </span>
  <em>
    <span>spinning in place,</span>
  </em>
  <span> nail swinging about in a fast yet controlled motion, is… dizzying just to look at, honestly. Somehow, the sheer force of it lifts Mato clear off the ground, and while he slows and touches back down before he’s risen too high, Soleil doesn’t doubt that he could go much higher and keep it up for much longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mato chuckles to himself, slings his nail upon his shoulder again, and turns to face her with a certain pleased weight to his movements. “That,” he says proudly, “is the nail art we call Cyclone Slash.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” is the best thing Soleil can muster. She blinks. “I… can see why it is called that. How do you not lose your footing, or your stomach for that matter? Wait. Who is this </span>
  <em>
    <span>we</span>
  </em>
  <span> you refer to? There are others?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil pictures another Mato, spinning around impossibly gracefully. She can’t picture it. She can barely even picture Mato himself doing it, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>he just did it.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She certainly can’t picture herself doing it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For his part, Mato chuckles slightly louder. “To answer your first question: practice, and focus. As for your second… there were two other nailmasters, my brothers, and the Great Nailsage himself. The Nailsage was once a nailmaster with two others, but only he took on the mantle of instructing the next generation of nailstudents, and only he decided we were ready before, well, the Infection.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” Soleil struggles to keep her expression neutral. “I’m sorry. Is he…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dead? The </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nailsage?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ha, I doubt it! I don’t think </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> could kill him, if Oro…” Mato sobers up, and clears his throat. “Ahem. Why don’t you try the Cyclone Slash now? No focusing, just copy my movements.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She does not comment on that, though she does raise an eyebrow as she attempts to mimic his stance at the beginning. Soleil does focus, but only enough to keep her own blade—not quite a nail, but certainly close </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough</span>
  </em>
  <span> to one—in being. She steps out, mindful of the spacing between her and Mato, and, slightly dubiously—starts spinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or more accurately, she makes it about halfway around the somewhat literal circle before slamming her nail straight into the cavern wall. Rather forcibly stopped, she staggers back, nail having phased out of existence at some point when she lost her focus. Not early enough, however, to keep her claws from </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurting.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Mato says faintly. “Perhaps in future, be more careful with where you are going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil glares at him. The glare fades fairly quickly, though, and she says, quietly, “Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No need! If anything, the fault is mine for not specifying… ahem. Just be careful with your spacing in future.” He pauses. “You… are unused to kindness, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What gave it away?” She summons a single nail again, extends it, is careful to make sure she’s not going to hit either wall </span>
  <em>
    <span>or</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mato. Before Mato can say anything else, she starts spinning again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She manages it at a much slower pace than him for about five seconds before she stops, blinking hard, and nearly falls into the cavern wall. Soleil catches herself, thankfully, and manages to lean on it instead. Harder than she’d like, but it’s fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A few things,” Mato says at last.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm. May I ask again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> did you do it without getting </span>
  <em>
    <span>horribly</span>
  </em>
  <span> dizzy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Practice, as well as… hmm. Summon your… soul-nail? Again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It isn’t made of soul, that particular brand of magic is fairly limited to those born in Hallownest and Soleil suspects she knows why, but she isn’t about to correct him. Instead, she blinks, and does, and holds it out in front of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve found it helps,” Mato says gently, “to focus on your nail while you are spinning. To focus on the one unchanging point in your surroundings, as opposed to how quickly everything else </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> changing. I’ve found it… helps in more than merely the art of the nail, if you have </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> you can focus your efforts on. If you’re lucky, someone who is always there for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what if they aren’t?” Soleil asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Find someone, something if necessary, that is. It is the art of the nail, for me. I know not what it is for my brother Sheo, but I am quite certain he has </span>
  <em>
    <span>something.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I know not what our other brother has, if he has anything, and… I find it hard to bring myself to care if he does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mato nods his thanks. “Are you ready to keep trying? Once you master the nail art, you’ll know. You’ll feel more powerful, and you’ll appear slightly different when preparing for it. I have seen it on others… you almost glow, in a sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” says Soleil, and pretends she doesn’t have experience with glowing in a much more literal sense. “I am ready, yes.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>She does keep trying. And, of course, she keeps failing, but she’s taking longer to fail, even if she can’t spin the blade much faster with her own claws.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yet.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Soleil is, slowly—</span>
  <em>
    <span>annoyingly</span>
  </em>
  <span> slowly—getting there. Possibly. Probably. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hopefully.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mato is a good teacher, she thinks. It’s not his fault that she has very little experience with combat besides her instincts… or, she supposes, the instincts she inherited a long time ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A very, very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> long time ago. Mato and the brothers he mentioned weren’t even thought of then. Likely their </span>
  <em>
    <span>grandparents</span>
  </em>
  <span> weren’t even thought of then, although Soleil is somewhat willing to admit she isn’t entirely familiar with the normal lifespan of an average bug. Not anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blades that aren’t quite nails came with being the God of Dreams. The last one had made them—or so Soleil had always assumed, though now she can’t help but wonder if he’d gotten them from another too. She remembers little about the last one, now. If there’s a next one—</span>
  <em>
    <span>when</span>
  </em>
  <span> there’s a next one, she is not naive or stupid—they’ll likely forget all about her, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(The thought has no right to hurt as much as it does.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s take a break,” Mato declares suddenly. He takes a seat where he’s standing, sets his nail down on the ground beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds… good,” Soleil says, trying and failing to conceal the fact that she’s breathing rather heavily. She takes a seat as well, though it’s really more of an exhausted </span>
  <em>
    <span>plop.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “I apologize.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mato stares at her. “For… what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For so many things that I can’t bring up now. Or I suppose I could, but I would rather not have that nail or its bearer trying to kill me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“For not being a particularly good student,” Soleil says, instead of bringing up any of the more glaringly obvious options.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nailmaster hums to himself, as if expecting this. He, of course, wouldn’t have any idea of the true weight of her sins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quite the contrary,” Mato says at last. “I have not had many students during my time as nailmaster. You are, in fact, my second one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil shouldn’t ask this, but… “What happened to the first?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do not know. Not for certain. I doubt they have met their end, just as much as I doubt the nailsage met his. My pupil, they… were an </span>
  <em>
    <span>exceedingly</span>
  </em>
  <span> fast learner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. A difficult standard to live up to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes and no. I instructed them in the art of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>nail,</span>
  </em>
  <span> yes, but I fear… they were conflicted, I could sense it in every swing of their nail. I wish they had taken longer to learn my nail art, simply so I could have helped them where they most needed it. They did not require combat instruction to be lethal—and neither, I suspect, did you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mato eyes Soleil, and she can practically hear the words that are going to come out of his mouth—</span>
  <em>
    <span>do you want to talk about it?</span>
  </em>
  <span>—already. So, she doesn’t let him say them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, before she can stop herself, she blurts out, “I was listening. Last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would have been more surprised if you insisted you weren’t,” Mato says wryly. “Then you know, your brother does care about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Soleil agrees. “Given… what I did, I’m not certain he should.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Infection was justified. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>no cost too great</span>
  </em>
  <span> was exactly what the Wyrm had used to justify his own atrocities, wasn’t it? She knows </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> mantra far too well, thanks to however long she remained imprisoned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This isn’t even about the Infection, of course. This is about trying to kill him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> they’d fought in the past, often coming quite close to that point of no return. But they’d had each other’s backs, when it mattered. Until they didn’t, and nothing mattered anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will not ask for details, though I would be lying if I said I didn’t have my suspicions,” Mato says after another long pause. “But if the ones you’ve hurt can manage to forgive you, and you are </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do better, then… it is equally important that you forgive yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span> snaps at him. She barely manages to bite back a comment about how there is nothing to forgive, for her, which is likely for the best given that it would be rather ironic. Instead, she stares at a dull grey cavern wall, and asks, “Would you be saying this to me if you were the one I hurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mato considers this thoroughly. At last, he says, “Yes. If Oro wanted to fix… what he did, genuinely—though make no mistake, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> owe me an explanation—I would gladly try to help him. It isn’t even truly my place to forgive him, perhaps not even to be angry, and I may be selfish in wanting to know why, but—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For wanting to know why he… did what he did?” Soleil is also getting an idea of what happened, though she can guess at very little in the way of specifics. “That isn’t selfish. That’s protecting yourself, and ensuring it does not happen again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” Mato does not sound satisfied with that answer, but he does not dispute it. “I… would like to have an explanation. It wouldn’t have to be a good one. At this point, I think I’d even accept an </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t know,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I… do miss him. And I would like to think it would be possible, for our relationship to be made anew.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think…” The words catch in her throat, and Soleil looks down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fact that you’re asking proves that it can, particularly if Grimm’s interest in this conversation is anything to go by.” Mato looks back towards the hut, cups his claws, and hollers, “Stop hiding behind that rock and come on over! I’ve got a spare nail if you need one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm does not come out from behind that rock. He does, however, teleport next to Soleil with a flash of red and a nod to Mato. “I appreciate the offer, but I did not change my mind regarding your nail art. Perhaps another time. I did not come out here for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil looks at him, slightly confused. “Then why are you—?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She is cut off, quite abruptly, by Grimm pulling her into a hug. He smells of fire and brimstone, as he always has, perhaps even </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Nightmare Heart. He always </span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span> liked fire, to be certain. Perhaps that had an influence, in retrospect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(She is realizing quite a few things, in retrospect.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed you,” Grimm says quietly. His voice cracks as he continues, “and if that leaves this cavern, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> deny it for as long as I live.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil laughs. “Of course. I missed you too, you sentimental fool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Grimm returns to Mato’s hut for the time being, and Soleil returns her attention to Mato, the nailmaster is smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brings a tear to my eye,” Mato admits. And then, as if to prove it, he wipes under said eye before once again hefting his nail. “Ready to keep trying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely.” And, despite herself, Soleil smiles back as she calls her nail into being once more, and gets into position.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Her next Cyclone Slash lasts longer than any single attempt before, and she’s almost as fast as Mato.)</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>RADIANCE WITH CYCLONE SLASH WHAT CRIMES WILL SHE COMMIT</p><p>Anyway *ahem* I think we can finally get back to the main plot now, I would like! To actually write Ember! Although this was too important to skip tbh, I couldn't just have things be Fine when they clearly weren't, and I wasn't about to gloss over how things got started getting better, so...</p><p>In short, thanks Mato, your help is very much appreciated given that you're one of maybe two bugs in Hallownest remotely qualified to be a therapist. Now... ONWARDS!</p><p>(TV Tropes page that I absolutely did not forget about: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ForWantOfANail">For Want of a Nail</a>.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Child of Two Worlds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>For someone who claims not to leave his home often, Nailmaster Mato has a surprisingly good grasp of the cliffs he lives in. Then again, he would of course have had to come through these cliffs some way to get here from Hallownest, so in retrospect it makes some sense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Grimm’s lantern, after all, isn’t exactly… inconspicuous. Though can </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> Grimm is involved in be described as inconspicuous? Granted, Soleil is in absolutely no position to talk, but the point remains: it’s not surprising at </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> that Mato would have seen it, figured out what they were talking about, and offered to guide them there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Soleil certainly wasn’t about to refuse a guide, given that the cliffs are still significantly windier than usual, and while Grimm is limping </span>
  <em>
    <span>less</span>
  </em>
  <span> than he was, he’s still limping a little.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here we are,” Mato says cheerfully. “Right down this… oh! Hm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really hate to break this to you, but I’m pretty sure </span>
  <em>
    <span>that...</span>
  </em>
  <span> is a wall,” says Grimm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>normally</span>
  </em>
  <span> one here. Some debris must have been blown down.” Mato hefts his nail. “It shouldn’t be as solid as it appears. Stand back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wall is not, in fact, as solid as it appears to be. Nor does it hold up at all once one very determined nailmaster crashes headlong through it, and into the cavern beyond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here it is!” Mato calls from inside, voice echoing slightly. Soleil exchanges looks with Grimm, and then they too crawl inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fortunately, the interior of the cavern is significantly bigger—not to mention </span>
  <em>
    <span>longer—</span>
  </em>
  <span>than the exterior. The only illumination, besides the light from outside, is a dull red glow from the end of the tunnel. The glow fluctuates in brightness, almost as if thumping to the beat of a heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, no, with that realization comes the one that it is </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely</span>
  </em>
  <span> thumping to the dull beat of the Nightmare Heart. That’s literally Grimm’s entire thing. And, as they draw closer, it becomes apparent the glow is coming from a dim brazier. Atop it is a large unlit lantern, several smaller ones surrounding it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… should likely have asked,” Mato says uneasily, “but what, exactly, are you planning to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> here? I can’t say this place feels particularly welcoming. Perhaps closer to the opposite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I,” Grimm says firmly, studying the brazier, “am going to call my child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...ah. Using that? Is it... safe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For me? Certainly. For you? So long as you are careful. Don’t try this at home.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with that, he plunges his claws into the brazier, and closes his eyes. Fire licks up his arms, but it does not appear to harm him. Of course it doesn’t, it already did, on that night so long ago where she nearly lost him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remains like this for a few more seconds, before opening his eyes, withdrawing his claws, and brushing himself off. “They’re coming.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>good,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Soleil says. “How long do you think they will be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just long enough to ensure Brumm can handle the Troupe on his own, and that nothing gets set on fire while they’re gone,” Grimm pauses, and amends, “Nothing that isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>meant</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be set on fire, at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The… Troupe,” Mato repeats slowly. “As in </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> Troupe. The Grimm Troupe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the one,” Grimm says cheerily. “You didn’t think my name was a coincidence, did you? I will say that nearly all of the rumors are unsubstantiated, though I won’t comment on the ones involving Divine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, Soleil gets the feeling that Mato has even less of an idea who this </span>
  <em>
    <span>Divine</span>
  </em>
  <span> is, save a member of the Grimm Troupe who apparently lives up to her rumors. And given that the entire Troupe has some… </span>
  <em>
    <span>less than charitable</span>
  </em>
  <span> rumors spread about them…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, she’s not coming, don’t worry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… was not, about that,” Mato says unconvincingly. “I have a few questions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re in luck! We have a few answers.” Grimm bows low. “Troupe Master Grimm, at your service.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not </span>
  <em>
    <span>currently</span>
  </em>
  <span> the troupe master,” Soleil says, “and you know it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm laughs. “Details, dear sister, details. It’s more a formality than anything else, but I suppose you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> right. Due to current circumstances, someone else is currently in charge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, without anything approaching a warning, the lantern lights up with scarlet fire. It starts at the top, then grows to encompass the entire lantern and the brazier below it. A dark, horned silhouette appears within the flames, then steps out. As soon as they do, the fire winks out into nothingness, leaving once again a cavern unlit save by the dull red glow of the brazier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is, however, </span>
  <em>
    <span>immensely</span>
  </em>
  <span> obvious that this new figure is a vessel, and therefore must be Ember. Their horns are similar to Holly’s, though they curl up and around their head unevenly in a manner not unlike flames. They bear an unlit, smaller lantern on their back, and for a moment, Soleil would swear their eyes glow red.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That would be me,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ember says cheerfully, apparently projecting their thoughts for all to hear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>Brumm,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Grimm corrects gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh, please. You and I both know he’s just going to do the bare minimum to keep the Troupe going until we’re back. Love the bug, but sometimes he just has no imagination.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ember bows low. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Good to see you, Dad, god behind the Infection, random bug I’ve never met. How’s the weather?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil stares at them, dumbstruck. They—of course they know, they are a </span>
  <em>
    <span>vessel</span>
  </em>
  <span> after all, and Grimm would have told them of the circumstances of their birth and… what came after. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> know why the Wyrm deemed it necessary to try anything and everything to stop her, and they would know everything Grimm did before coming to Hallownest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like the Infection. Which—Mato did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> know about, and she can’t quite bring herself to look at him. And somehow, she thinks Ember hasn’t taken their eyes off her since they arrived.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course they wouldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What,” Mato says in a low, tense voice, and Soleil immediately cringes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good to see you too, little one,” Grimm says wryly—which, given that they are slightly taller than him at the moment, would be hilarious if Soleil wasn’t already panicking. “Weather’s fine, slightly windier than I’d like. Did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to bring up the mawlek in the room </span>
  <em>
    <span>now?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ember says quite cheerfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm sighs. “Right, okay, there’s quite a bit of explanation you need, and quite a lot of explanation Mato here needs now, and—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Soleil,</span>
  </em>
  <span> running away will not help </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t running,” Soleil says as if she wasn’t about to teleport as far as she could and </span>
  <em>
    <span>then</span>
  </em>
  <span> run. She still can’t, or perhaps won’t, look at Mato.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You… they can’t be telling the truth, can they?” Mato says desperately.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh, I am,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ember says smugly, at the same time as Grimm says, “Not entirely,” and then a slightly frustrated, “Ember, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> The vessel protests, crossing their arms over their chest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Did I miss something?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> They… are shorter than Holly, to be sure, though not by much. And given that the Abyss was sealed as soon as the Wyrm thought he had his </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfectly hollow knight,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ember would have to be the elder of the two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One wouldn’t know it from looking at them. Or from their evident lack of maturity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A few things.” Even in the next to nonexistent lighting, it’s not difficult to tell that Grimm looks </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely</span>
  </em>
  <span> tired. “But can we please continue this conversation outside? It’s dark in here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No objections here,” Soleil says quietly, though it isn’t the dark that makes her wish to spread her wings and fly away, never to return. It is the conversation itself, postponed though it is. She was already closest to the exit, and furthest from the unlit brazier, and consequently the first to step back out into the perpetual twilight of Hallownest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her gaze finds the windswept plains. She can almost see beyond. If she went now, and was careful to avoid any teleportation-aided attempts at stopping her… she might make it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That would, however, be risking quite a lot on a </span>
  <em>
    <span>might.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And… even if she did make it, abandoning Hallownest would just be another regret she’d carry with her forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Hallownest… was her home, once. It isn’t anymore. But it had been, a long time ago. It had been for her and Grimm both, before he left, and after they’d come from the land that no longer held anything at all for them. She can’t just abandon it.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(And even if she </span>
  <em>
    <span>could…</span>
  </em>
  <span> where would she even go?)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She does not flee. Instead, she takes a seat on a rock, and waits for the others to emerge. She does not have to wait long for Mato, at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hurts to meet his eyes, but—she manages it. At least for a few seconds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is either a potentially good sign or an </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely bad sign</span>
  </em>
  <span> that she can’t tell, by looking, what he’s thinking right now. Just because she can’t see it, though, doesn’t mean that the bitterness of being betrayed isn’t there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, she doubts he expected her questions concerning the hypothetical to turn literal—or, in fact, have been quite literal from her perspective from the start. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the perpetual half-light of Hallownest, it is significantly easier to see that, while Ember is quite undeniably a vessel, it is equally undeniable that they are a member of Grimm’s troupe. Twin vertical lines, similar to those on the masks his followers wear, are marked on their own mask and split in two by their eyes—for Soleil knows now, from experience, that there are eyes there and not merely a formless black nothingness. Their cloak is long and a brilliant scarlet, tied up at the top with a scrap of black fabric approximating a scarf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They are unmistakably a vessel. But they clearly have taken that, as well as the place that raised them, and made their own identity out of that. And that, Soleil can respect. That, Soleil would respect a lot more if they hadn’t immediately decided to inform Mato just who she was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(They aren’t being subtle with their glares in her direction. She pretends, largely, not to see them.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Soleil,” Grimm says for the third time, and she realizes he’s talking to her. “Are you okay if I...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, elaborate further on how I killed so many—“ A strange noise escapes her, instead of any further words. It takes her a few moments to realize that it was a choked sob. She manages, nonetheless, to continue, “I doubt you could make this situation any worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ember makes a quick little motion with their hands, to which Grimm responds, “Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Soleil, stop me if I say anything inaccurate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She settles for a quiet nod, and stays quiet as her brother continues, “I will not claim to be familiar with the extent that the Infection has hurt you personally, but... Mato, I believe you know, now, what exactly I was having trouble forgiving her for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Mato murmurs, “I realize that quite well now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ember makes a different, rapid series of hand signs. With a look to Soleil, they notice her lack of reaction, and mutter telepathically, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Of course you wouldn’t have bothered to learn sign language. Anyway, like I said: why even bother with trying to forgive her?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because she is trying to fix what she did, I don’t think we can fix it without her, and she is still my sister.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ember stares at Grimm.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “She’s what?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“My sister. I thought we had established this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, no, I knew that. I meant the trying to fix the Infection part. What do you mean, trying?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean,” Soleil cuts in, “that it is no longer under my control and I can’t stop it if I wanted to. And make no mistake, I do want to. Even if... it will never begin to make up for the things I’ve done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“...you know, Dad, it would have been nice if you clarified what stopping the Infection meant when you called me,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ember says wryly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, little one,” Grimm replies, “at this point I am so used to it not being her anymore that it slipped my mind completely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Mato says, “I am definitely still missing some things. Let’s not even get into the fact that apparently someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>else</span>
  </em>
  <span> is controlling the Infection now, because—how do you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>cause</span>
  </em>
  <span> something like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mostly spite,” Soleil admits. “I… fooled myself for a long time into believing it was vengeance, that it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>justice,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but it… wasn’t. Maybe it was at the start, but the more I think about it, the more certain I am that it never was at all. I’m no fool. I know no one in Hallownest was unaffected by my actions. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me tell you a story. My brothers and I…” Mato sighs, and looks out into the wind. “When we were little more than grubs, our parents got Infected. They made sure we ran, before we got Infected too, and we—did. Fast. And far, until we could run no longer. That was where we met the Great Nailsage. In retrospect, I don’t think he was in much better shape than us! But he took one look at three cold, terrified kids, pulled himself together, and… I don’t think we would have survived, without him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil bites back an apology. That’s the last thing Mato will want right now. Instead, she nods an acknowledgement, as a sign for him to continue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he does. “Our parents might still be alive, were it not for the Infection. But… We never would have met the nailsage if it were not for the Infection, and he was as much of a parent to us as they were. So, Soleil—</span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> that your name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is,” Soleil says. “Though one I had not used often until quite recently.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mato nods in return. “I forgive you. I will not </span>
  <em>
    <span>forget</span>
  </em>
  <span> what you have done, nor should anyone else, and make no mistake: should the Infection as controlled by you emerge a third time, I will be the first to stand against you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> create anything like the Infection again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> stand against me.” She considers this for a moment before adding, quieter, “If it’s intentional. If it’s unintentional, and I don’t know about it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> let me know before trying to kill me, I do prefer to know </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> bugs are trying to kill me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm snorts. “Don’t we all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Not if no one’s trying to kill you,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ember pipes up unhelpfully. They give Soleil a look, and add, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Learn </span>
  </em>
  <span>some kind</span>
  <em>
    <span> of sign, </span>
  </em>
  <span>please,</span>
  <em>
    <span> this is </span>
  </em>
  <span>exhausting</span>
  <em>
    <span> and I swear you’re the only bug I’ve ever met who didn’t know any kind of sign.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will do my best,” Soleil promises. “I… recall one of your siblings using it, and infrequently your sister as well. They had to have learned it from somewhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ember stares. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I have siblings?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Living</span>
  <em>
    <span> siblings? And a sister??”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Before you ask why I didn’t tell you that,” Grimm says mildly, “you didn’t exactly wait for me to explain everything before deciding you were coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just because I understand your point, does not mean I have to agree with it. But—she’s telling the truth? Where are they?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dirtmouth. Roughly that way.” She points—and upon realizing that she is pointing back to the cave they came from, adds, “On the other side of the cliffs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“...about how far, would you say?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ember, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Grimm says sternly, “you can’t teleport that far.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Want to bet?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil decides to let Grimm deal with his child, and returns her attention to Mato. “I… thank you, first of all, for giving me a chance. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> let you down. Secondly, we are going to need all the help we can get to stop the new Infection. Would you by any chance, be willing to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Mato interrupts, “but not yet. I have some business of my own to handle first. Family to visit, a wayward pupil to find… Dirtmouth, you say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dirtmouth, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mato nods. “I’ll enlist Sheo, then. Perhaps, if we have the time, I’ll attempt to locate my other brother or my pupil as well. If not… I’ll be there, when the time comes. I swear it on my honor as a nailmaster.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t thank me yet. Make sure our efforts will mean something. And…” Mato hums to himself. “Don’t forget to practice our nail art.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Soleil promises. A thought occurs to her, quite suddenly. “I wonder how much more effective Cyclone Slash would be with multiple nails?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is a terrifying thought,” Mato says, “and something I would honestly love to see. In the meantime… farewell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil raises a claw in goodbye. “Walk with the light,” she says as he goes, though too quietly for anyone but herself to hear. Returning her attention to her brother and… nibling, she supposes, Ember looks a little too excited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wonders, briefly, if she should be worried about that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember, </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> to that ledge up there,” Grimm tells Ember sternly. “Attempting to teleport somewhere you can’t see—”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Is an accident waiting to happen, yes, Dad, I </span>
  </em>
  <span>know,” and while Soleil cannot see the vessel’s eyes, she gets the distinct sense of an eyeroll projected over the mental link nonetheless. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Can we go yet?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m ready, yes,” Soleil says. “Though I feel the need to inform you that I too can—”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Teleport,</span>
  </em>
  <span> is what she had been planning to say, but Ember loops one arm around her wing and one around Grimm’s, and in a flash of scarlet light tinged with darkness, they’re on that ledge. Before Soleil can fully recover, Ember looks up to another ledge, and they jump up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And again. And again. This process repeats several times, until they’re all deposited on the top of the cliffs and Soleil is </span>
  <em>
    <span>fully</span>
  </em>
  <span> regretting agreeing, if only implicitly, to teleportation under someone else’s power. Particularly someone else’s power which appears to be partially Void, partially Nightmare Heart, and is wielded by someone who really is undeniably just a child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ember is just a child, and a particularly snarky one at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ready to keep going?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ember asks cheerfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil reaches a wing out to test the wind, and is </span>
  <em>
    <span>immensely</span>
  </em>
  <span> relieved to find that it is still blowing the same way. “I think I’ll fly the rest of the way. Need to stretch my wings. Don’t let your father fly, his was broken yesterday and I sincerely doubt it is fully healed yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Snitch,” Grimm mutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ember laughs silently, but nods. As Soleil takes to the air, letting the wind carry her across the remainder of the cliffs and back down to Dirtmouth, there is another flash of scarlet streaked with black, and then another. Although, interestingly enough, Ember’s teleportation appears to be less erratic now that it is just them and Grimm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps that isn’t so much of a surprise. Soleil frowns, but turns her attention to the flight ahead, and the town below. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dirtmouth looks so… small, from up above. It’s even smaller, when you consider that nowhere near all of the homes are occupied. But Soleil has, despite herself, grown rather fond of the town.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She alights close to the town’s limits, and takes a moment to merely breathe in her surroundings. Then, she goes looking for Holly.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>EMBER EMBER EMBER THEY'RE <i>HERE</i> AND I THINK YOU CAN TELL THE MOMENT THEY COMPLETELY DERAILED MY PLANS FOR THEM SHOWING UP. They are a force of chaos and I shouldn't be at all surprised by that fact. Anyway! Got the kid, possibly some other allies........ well, Dirtmouth is still in one piece so clearly the Infection hasn't gotten that much worse, has it? ;)</p><p>
  <strike>Find out next time on Dragon Ball Z- okay no I haven't even watched that show lmfao</strike>
</p><p>But yes, I'm sure it will be completely fine and absolutely no one will have disappeared, perhaps to never be seen again. Nope! Nuh-uh. :)</p><p>See you next time school cooperates enough to let me write and post something! Hopefully sooner rather than later. Maybe even tomorrow, if I'm lucky, though I make no promises.</p><p>Edit: FORGOT THE TV TROPES PAGE AGAIN anyway here: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ChildOfTwoWorlds">Child of Two Worlds</a></p><p>Edit #2: If you don't recognize Ember, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28136451">this fic</a> might be of some use.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. The Greatest Story Never Told</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Holly is not in the house that they and Hornet have worked to make a home. Hornet, however, is—and so is Bretta, curled up with a blanket on the couch and snoring softly. She doesn’t look any more Infected, though. Hornet doesn’t look Infected in the slightest, instead quite focused on what appears to be some kind of weaving project.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Radiance,” Hornet greets without looking up. A strand of silk is pulled taut between her fingers, and another row of her work—whatever it is—is completed. “Were you successful?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Soleil says in return. “Grimm and your other sibling are taking the somewhat longer route back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet looks up at that, and before long, she voices her clear question: </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Somewhat</span>
  </em>
  <span> longer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “I flew, a simple matter when not going against the wind. Grimm… </span>
  <em>
    <span>may</span>
  </em>
  <span> have injured himself while attempting to do so earlier, so he and Ember are merely teleporting ledge by ledge. Both of them can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Hornet snorts, and returns to her work. “I would not mind being capable of teleportation myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil considers this. “You might be, actually. Your—the Wyrm was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet snorts louder this time, and considerably more derisively. “The only things I got from him were his height, or notable lack thereof, and the problems he caused. I credit turning out as a halfway functional individual entirely to my mothers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It occurs to Soleil, quite suddenly, that she’d never discussed Herrah the Beast with her daughter. And perhaps, this was a good thing, and could have continued to be a good thing. Nevertheless, Soleil sits on the nearest unoccupied chair and says, quietly, “I’m sorry about your—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then it occurs to her, mid-sentence, that Hornet had said </span>
  <em>
    <span>mothers.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Plural. “...I am sorry for Herrah,” Soleil amends, “though I was not aware that you had multiple.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was not you who chose her, specifically, to Dream when others more loyal to Hallownest could easily have taken the role, and two Dreamers would have been sufficient,” Hornet says without ceasing her weaving… </span>
  <em>
    <span>if</span>
  </em>
  <span> it’s weaving at all. Soleil is unfamiliar with the semantics of how silk comes together to form fabrics, but she quite suddenly finds herself wondering. She does not ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As for who else I am referring to,” Hornet continues with a moderately humorous note to her words, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> you paying attention when I challenged Zote? I did not refer to myself as a child of three queens for no reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To be entirely truthful, I would have to admit that I only remember believing you were showing off for Bretta.” Soleil smiles, slightly, at the embarrassed huff that gets. “Am I </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Hornet admits in turn. “I suppose one queen is obvious enough, perhaps even two—although I will confess that I have not spoken with… apparently, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cyclamen</span>
  </em>
  <span> in many years and would prefer to keep it that way at this point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Queen Herrah of Deepnest, the White Lady of Hallownest,” Soleil counts off on her own claws, then thinks. She cannot come up with the answer based on her knowledge alone. “Who </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> the third?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Queen Vespa, of the Hive near Hallownest’s eastern borders,” Hornet says, and quite suddenly—from what little Soleil does know of the Hive—her chosen name makes much more sense. “I… have not visited her for longer, but I fear the Infection was not kind to the Hive, and I… fear more what I might find, while it is still running rampant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Soleil does not say, for she did not miss Hornet’s quietly annoyed chuff the last time she said it. Instead, she asks, softer, “What was she like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hornet sets her silk down for a moment, and thinks for a time longer. “Proud, most of all. Fiercely independent. She, like my other mother—like Herrah—bore little love for the White Kingdom, though they dealt with my—with the Wyrm—as necessary. She helped train me, moreso after Herrah was… gone, though I chose my name in honor of her prior to that. It would not be an exaggeration to say that I owe my continued survival to her, more than any other influence on my life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil… does not know how to respond to that. She tries saying, quietly, “I would have liked to know her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She would have liked to know you, too,” Hornet says in return. And then, “You wish to know where Holly is, I suspect. They have been primarily staying with Sly in his shop lately, given that we couldn’t keep Sly away from his geo if we tried.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moderately sour note to her voice suggests that they </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> try, and Hornet is still slightly miffed about her failure on that front. Soleil tries not to let her amusement show. She isn’t entirely successful.</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Holly is not waiting outside Sly’s shop, or outside in general, as Soleil has noticed they often are. They… seem to greatly prefer wider spaces, now that they can express a preference at all. Wider spaces, and physical contact, and—Soleil sincerely doubts either of those things are an accident.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(She may not have been responsible for </span>
  <em>
    <span>that,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but… she certainly didn’t help.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quirrel and Tiso, however, are outside Sly’s shop, though they aren’t exactly </span>
  <em>
    <span>waiting.</span>
  </em>
  <span> In truth, they seem to be practicing whatever the </span>
  <em>
    <span>launch Quirrel several feet into the air with Tiso’s shield</span>
  </em>
  <span> maneuver is called. Again. They have gotten much better at aiming, or at the very least at </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> making Quirrel land on a roof, or fall </span>
  <em>
    <span>through</span>
  </em>
  <span> a roof, or on top of anyone who happens to be walking nearby like poor harmless Elderbugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tiso waves, once Quirrel is in the air. Quirrel, once he lands—stumbling slightly—does not. But he does incline his head in a nod, and—oh, that’s interesting, he’s gotten some kind of a cap to replace Monomon’s mask. (Though Soleil suspects she’d be rather quickly on the receiving end of his nail, if she dared to mention that.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Radiance,” Quirrel greets warily. Apparently he and Hornet have been talking. “How much longer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not long,” Soleil says, and bites back the </span>
  <em>
    <span>I hope</span>
  </em>
  <span> that should follow. “There are some others we are waiting on. Have you… heard of a nailmaster?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quirrel uses a nail. He should know what a nailmaster is. And yet, for the first time in days, Quirrel eyes her with not anger, fear, or suspicion—because of the sheer undulating </span>
  <em>
    <span>confusion</span>
  </em>
  <span> that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> eyeing her with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never heard of one,” Quirrel says with a shrug. “Uh… Tiso?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope.” Tiso pops the P. “But I don’t think I’d remember if I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Must not be a Hallownest thing… well, I suppose it could be. I remember more than I did, though not e…” He trails off as he recalls who he’s talking to. In a much more clipped tone, he says, “You’re looking for Holly. They’re helping Sly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. Thank you.” Soleil hesitates, just before her claws find the door. “I know this may not mean much, but for what it is worth, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prove it, when the time comes.” Quirrel turns away. “Come on, Tiso. Let’s practice somewhere further out… maybe not in the graveyard this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” comes Tiso’s slightly embarrassed agreement, “maybe not.”</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Holly </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> in Sly’s shop, sitting behind the counter in a space that is just a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little</span>
  </em>
  <span> too small for them. Their feet are up over the counter to compensate for this, and their arm is tucked behind their head in something. They are snoring, slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil decides against waking them just yet. She walks back this decision almost immediately once it occurs to her just who </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> in Sly’s shop: the miserly little fly himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holly,” she says sharply, then immediately cringes as they startle awake. “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They shake their head, and reach for the chalkboard. Before they erase it, Soleil catches a glimpse of the words </span>
  <em>
    <span>out</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>back soon.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Once they turn it to face her, there are two more words (or technically, one word and one contraction of two more) written on it: </span>
  <em>
    <span>IT’S FINE.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it is most certainly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> fine. You don’t have to pretend it is for my sake. You shouldn’t have to pretend it is for </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> sake, not even your own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly underlines the </span>
  <em>
    <span>FINE</span>
  </em>
  <span> in response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not fine.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I am not convinced it ever </span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span> been fine. I…” Soleil blinks. “I hurt you, in </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> more ways than one—though I suppose the physical is the most obvious. And for all my apologies to others, I never have apologized to you, have I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They start to shake their head, then think better of it and circle the entirety of their statement instead. Multiple times, as if to keep saying </span>
  <em>
    <span>IT’S FINE, IT’S FINE, IT’S FINE,</span>
  </em>
  <span> over and over and over and over until it somehow inexplicably is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it isn’t fine. It never has been. Their arm—and the quiet, unassuming stump where the other should be, hidden under their cloak—is only the most visible proof of that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes go to where she knows it is. “You lost your arm because of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their writing this time is slow and deliberate, and in significantly smaller letters. </span>
  <em>
    <span>BECAUSE OF FATHER.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“In part, yes,” Soleil admits, “but… we can’t blame the Wyrm for everything. No matter how much and how desperately we wish to do so. For all I tried to convince you that you </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> someone who mattered, I treated you no better than he did, did I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly shakes their head emphatically. </span>
  <em>
    <span>HE THOUGHT I WAS NOT ALIVE AT ALL. YOU KNEW I WAS. IT CLICKED WHILE I WAS…</span>
  </em>
  <span> They hesitate before writing further, </span>
  <em>
    <span>IN THE ABYSS.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, Soleil suspects they are not referring to their first time in that deep, dark pit at the bottom of the world. No, they mean as part of the Lord of Shades.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t make what </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> did better. In fact, I am reasonably certain it makes it worse—I treated you as a person, just not one that mattered when you stood in my way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I CAN’T SEEM TO RECALL STANDING MUCH IN THOSE DAYS.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>For a few long moments, Soleil fails to see the relevance. Then she realizes Holly’s shoulders are shaking—not with sadness, but with mirth. And it clicks, and those few long moments become moderately embarrassing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not what I meant</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>you know it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly’s response is merely a frown, two dots drawn with an upside-down curve underneath them. They consider this, and then draw in a single tear to further emphasize their point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am going to choose to believe that is a reaction to your rather terribly-timed joke and not </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> reaction to your terribly-timed joke,” Soleil says, and continues before they can begin to correct her. “Holly—I apologize. For everything I did to you, and everything I did through you. I… cannot regret the Infection, not entirely, but I can regret forcing you through it in my own fleeting desperation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chalkboard, erased at some point while she was speaking, stays blank for a time. It remains blank for longer, until at last Holly writes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I AM GLAD YOU ARE TRYING TO DO BETTER. THOUGH I DO BELIEVE YOUR ACTIONS WERE JUSTIFIED.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Them being </span>
  <em>
    <span>justified</span>
  </em>
  <span> does not make them </span>
  <em>
    <span>right,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Soleil says shakily.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>NO. I… WOULD BE LYING IF I SAID I WASN’T MAD AT YOU, THEN. I STAYED MAD AT YOU FOR A LONG TIME, IN THE ABYSS. I NEARLY LOST MYSELF FROM IT, AND… AT THIS POINT, WHAT DOES STAYING MAD ACCOMPLISH?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“How would </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>...TRUE. I DON’T EITHER. I AM JUST GLAD YOU’RE HERE, AND GLAD I AM HERE, AND GLAD THAT THERE IS </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>SOMETHING</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> WE CAN STILL DO. DOES THAT MAKE SENSE?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I… think it does? Thank you, Holly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They give her a thumbs-up, and then write, </span>
  <em>
    <span>OTHER SIBLING? GRIMM?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grimm and I have… largely repaired things,” Soleil admits, and she can practically </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> the vindication radiating off Holly at those words. “He and your sibling are on their way to Dirtmouth now. Perhaps they have already arrived, by now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly visibly relaxes at that. Though they do still look rather smug, and it’s that smugness—as well as the notable lack of any pint-sized shopkeepers pressuring her into purchasing something she will literally never need—that reminds her of what she’d noticed nearly immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Sly?” She asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smugness disappears just as quickly as it had come. </span>
  <em>
    <span>ABOUT THAT,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Holly writes, and they almost look embarrassed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>HE SORT OF… LEFT.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They underline the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>LEFT.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, I got that, he—you didn’t try to stop him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>WASN’T ALONE. ASSURED ME THEY’D KEEP AN EYE ON HIM. DON’T THINK I COULD HAVE STOPPED THEM ALL IF I SAID NO.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a lot to unpack in that statement, and Soleil isn’t even sure where to begin. She settles for starting with, “Who is </span>
  <em>
    <span>them?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>DON’T KNOW NAMES. SORRY.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> to apologize for,” Soleil says immediately. “I suppose I am just… you do not seem very worried, about Sly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>NOT WORRIED. TRUST ME.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil closes her eyes tightly, and nods. “Well, if he isn’t… here, at the moment, it’s time you met your sibling. Their name is Ember, and I do believe they quite justifiably hate me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly tucks their slate under their arm and, as they push themself up and out of the area normally occupied by the shopkeeper, gives Soleil a judgmental look. She doesn’t even dignify that with a (verbal) response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Perhaps Holly should have been more worried.)</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm sure Sly is perfectly fine, wherever he is. y'all trust Holly's judgment, right? ......right? come on, they've been through a lot, the least you can do is trust their judgment.</p><p>(what happened to Sly may or may not wind up being part of a future fic, and if I ever do write it, I'll link it here. not written yet though. it also certainly won't <i>start</i> with Sly, but it'll be rather fun, I think.)</p><p>anyway... we're getting Close, y'all. what to? oh, You Know. ;) thanks for reading and commenting! &lt;3</p><p>TV Tropes page: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TheGreatestStoryNeverTold">The Greatest Story Never Told</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Do Not Go Gentle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Despite the loss of Sly—which Holly stubbornly and continuously insists is not only not a loss, but that he is in good claws wherever he is—Dirtmouth seems to be in no more danger than it was when Soleil departed for the cliffs. Yes, thick black smoke billows up from the well from time to time, which is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>furthest</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing from a good sign, but—the important thing is that no one new is Infected, and while they may have lost Sly, Bretta is still here and very much herself.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still. Taking the fight to the Lord of Shades cannot wait much longer, now—and Soleil is not sure she would wait longer if she could. The Lord of Shades, after all, only grows more powerful with time. She can’t wait for Mato, or his brothers, or his pupil—though if Hornet’s offhanded remark about Ghost using nail arts, plural, had any substance to it… perhaps it is for the best if Mato never finds his pupil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And at least, between Holly and Ember, anyone who goes down into the Abyss will be protected from the inherent danger of Void poisoning. That is to say nothing, of course, of everything else that could be down there—Soleil doubts the unfortunate broken vessel in Ancient Basin was the only one reanimated by the Lord of Shades for their own ends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She is quite sure, now, that either vessel would be capable enough on their own for nearly the entire group—but two is better, in case one falters. Neither of them will falter, of course, but… just in case. It has never hurt to be too prepared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainly</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t hurt that, for once in their life, Holly is getting to spend time with their siblings. Although Soleil supposes that depends on the definition of </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but really, what children haven’t caused </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> property damage in their time? These three in particular get along like a house on fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...and in one notable case, in a literal house on fire. Though it was put out quickly. And probably not intentional. (Though Soleil cannot be entirely sure of that last part with Ember.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fact remains: there is, quite simply, no more time to waste. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Soleil doesn’t waste it. If they fail—if </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> fails—Hallownest will be as good as gone. Much of her time is spent ensuring that those residents of Dirtmouth who cannot or will not fight know to run for the cliffs should they fail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They will not fail. Soleil </span>
  <em>
    <span>cannot</span>
  </em>
  <span> fail. But it has never hurt her to be overprepared. If anything, many of the failures in Soleil’s life have come from being </span>
  <em>
    <span>underprepared.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And… it does not hurt, to hope for the best but prepare for the worst. It hurts nothing but Soleil’s own pride—and </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> has been in tatters since she was sealed away in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Should the assault against the Lord of Shades falter, those remaining behind in Dirtmouth know to leave Hallownest, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>fast.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Soleil is unclear on the extent to which the wastelands surrounding affect memory—and to what extent that effect was the Wyrm’s work—but it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> abundantly clear that those who leave Hallownest still retain consciousness, they merely relinquish memories of Hallownest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quirrel is, clearly, still having a lovely time recovering from that. But he wouldn’t want her help, and in truth Soleil isn’t even sure what she could do to do so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The important thing is that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> safe enough for the average bug to leave Hallownest physically, if not mentally—and if the Lord of Shades is victorious, it is a preferable alternative to death. Nearly anything would be a preferable alternative to death in that fashion. Soleil… would know, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Should the worst come to pass, Iselda will take charge, and ensure the remaining residents of Dirtmouth make it to the cliffs and beyond them. Out of all those not going on the attack, she is by far the most competent—in combat and otherwise. She can do what needs to be done, if it comes to that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it will not come to that, for Soleil cannot fail. She will not fail, when the time comes. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>will not fall.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Not to the Lord of Shades. Not again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, as she surveys those gathered around Dirtmouth’s well, prepared to fight for their lives and that of the entire kingdom—she can almost believe it. Tiso is here, shield polished and gesturing animatedly to a somewhat more demure Quirrel. Holly, Hornet, and Ember are here, standing slightly apart, with the former two watching the latter juggle fireballs streaked with void.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm is here, at her side, and it is he who murmurs, softly, “Do you think it will be enough?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a few, fleeting moments, Radiance sees not those gathered in Dirtmouth, but a different group. She is there still, as is Grimm—but so too is Unn, driven to the point of determination. So too is Cyclamen, for the first time in a very long time taking on a smaller, more maneuverable form and </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> staying stuck in the ground for years. So too is… Albasten. The Wyrm who called himself king, and who the Radiance had once been foolish enough to call friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Had he ever considered her a friend? Soleil suspects she does not wish to know the answer.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinks, and sees Dirtmouth once again. “It will have to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That… does not answer my question.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is right. And yet Soleil hesitates before admitting, “I think this will be enough to get </span>
  <em>
    <span>to</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Abyss. Once we are there… you remember the first time. Anything could happen. Anything at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm nods. “Do you think we will be enough, this time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would have liked to have had Mato’s aid, at least.” Still, Soleil closes her eyes, and nods in return. “If I do not… what other option do we have?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, running is always a viable one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes snap open. Soleil all but hisses, “No. It. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Isn’t.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Do you know what happens if we run?” It’s a rhetorical question, of course he knows, but she says it nevertheless. “Everything—</span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone</span>
  </em>
  <span>—in Hallownest dies. Those who can’t leave, like Unn. Those who aren’t fast enough. Those who are stuck deeper below, and do not have the time to reach the surface before the Void consumes everything. Then, if we are </span>
  <em>
    <span>lucky,</span>
  </em>
  <span> it stops with Hallownest. If we aren’t, running may only buy us more time. We </span>
  <em>
    <span>have to—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Soleil,” Grimm says, “I know. And I do believe you’ve gotten everyone’s attention with that outburst.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah. She has, has she? Soleil turns, slowly. Yes, Grimm is correct—and not just referring to those assembled around the well. Others are watching. Soleil thinks she recognizes Bretta’s antennae poking up from behind one of Iselda’s windows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil takes a deep breath. “Right. Thank you all for coming. Though, I suppose—I owe you an explanation, </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of you, given that any or all of us could easily die here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wind over the Howling Cliffs seems to have finally died down, in favor of a stronger gusting from Crystal Peak. Somewhere far above even Hallownest’s Crown, the real sun shines, filtering in through caverns among caverns and tunnels among tunnels until it emerges as the half-light Hallownest is more familiar with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hallownest isn’t perfect. Far from perfect, in fact, though it never has been perfect and never will be perfect. But—it is the home of everyone here, whether it became that recently or always has been. No bug here will give it up without a fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil will die before letting the Lord of Shades win. This time, she knows what to expect. This time, she knows how to </span>
  <em>
    <span>win.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She just has to get there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm gives her a concerned look. Inaudibly to all but his sister, he asks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Are you sure?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Soleil responds in kind, and then takes a deep, moderately shaky breath. “It would be unfair of me to ask this of you without telling you the truth of </span>
  <em>
    <span>why.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You see, I… made a mistake. A terrible one, and one I cannot hope to fully atone for—but one I can at least ensure does not hurt anyone else. I trust you are all familiar with the first Infection?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t wait for an answer, though it doesn’t escape her notice that Bretta nods slowly as she clears her throat and continues, “I… I did it. It was me. I deliberately caused the first Infection, because—well, I’ve learned that my reasons matter far less than I initially assumed, and they justify almost nothing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t matter anymore—those I did it for are all dead, and nothing I did prevented that. They…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil blinks hard, and keeps going, before she can start crying, “I wish I could say that the second Infection was not my fault as well, but it was, if less directly. An entity called the Lord of Shades attacked me and took the Infection for its own. It is they we—I—must stop to save Hallownest. And given my role in the situation getting this bad… I understand perfectly, if you do not wish to forgive me for what I have done. I would not, in your position. I only ask that you stand with me to fix this, once and for all, and then…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Closing her eyes, Soleil shudders out the words, “Whatever happens, happens, and I almost certainly deserve it. But this once… I ask you to stand with me, to stop the Infection once and for all and to </span>
  <em>
    <span>save Hallownest.</span>
  </em>
  <span> If you are not with me, I… I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It occurs to her, slightly belatedly, that the entire group going after the Lord of Shades already knew this. But Bretta, peeking through Iselda’s window, did not. Iselda and Cornifer, watching from the shade of their home, did not. Elderbug, standing sentinel next to his bench as he nearly always is, did not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> we are with you,” Hornet says firmly. “This is the best and only chance we might have to save Ghost. And even if it were not—you have shown, Radiance, that you intend to fix your mistakes no matter the cost to yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly nods solemnly. Ember shrugs as if they don’t care, but they do step closer to their siblings, which says more than words ever could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil looks, slightly scared, to Tiso and Quirrel. Strangely, it is not Tiso who speaks for them this time, nor is it Tiso who says, “We’re with you, for </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> and this alone.” It is Quirrel, and… Soleil supposes that is the best she can ever hope to get from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m with you,” Grimm says, though he does not have to for Soleil to know. Still, she blinks gratefully. That’s everyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s everyone, and yet an unfamiliar voice from the back of the crowd says, “So are we.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a bug standing there with an uncanny resemblance to Mato—if Mato wore a paint-stained apron and held a massive paintbrush instead of a nail. Mato too is there, as is a bearded beetle with one massive horn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, everyone,” Nailmaster Mato says with a cheerful wave. “I do hope we aren’t late!”</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nailmaster Mato and his brother Sheo are, as it happens, just in time. Perhaps even a little early—Soleil cannot be sure how much of her speech they heard, but between that and what Mato must have told him, she deserves the wary looks.and  She deserves a lot more than wary looks, but right now she has more important things to think about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sheo’s partner, a bearded beetle calling himself Esmy who may be perhaps the last nailsmith alive in Hallownest, is staying with the Dirtmouth group. This is likely for the best, given that while Esmy is </span>
  <em>
    <span>capable</span>
  </em>
  <span> of fighting, so is Iselda—and Iselda alone won’t be enough, if the worst comes to pass and the remaining residents of Dirtmouth are forced to flee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sheo and the Radiance are, in fact, the last to drop down into the old well. She watches, silently, as Sheo embraces his partner firmly. Then they part. Esmy walks off to go talk to Elderbug, and Sheo… Sheo returns his attention to Soleil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am glad Mato was able to find you,” Soleil says genuinely. “He… how much did he tell you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very little,” says the… nailmaster wielding a massive paintbrush. Paintmaster? Paintmaster. “Enough, for me to piece together the rest from what little we caught.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sheo tilts his head slightly and says, “I’ll be reserving my judgment until after we save Hallownest. Though I will tell you now—I am no stranger to believing the path you are on is the only thing open to you, until you stumble quite unwillingly upon a better one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Radiance nods. “I suppose… I am not, either. Shall we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sheo nods. And, for the first time since finally emerging from the well as herself, she drops back down.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Mato, Sheo, and Nailsmith really all showed up <i>literally</i> at the last second huh. Fifteen minutes late with Starbucks. Ah well, they made it.</p><p>Nailsmith's name (Esmy) is actually found elsewhere ingame, though I fully credit Flamesong with giving me the idea for using that name for Nailsmith and not assuming it was referring to a different character. Was slightly lukewarm, got in the car for two hours, thought about it, by the time I was back online I was like YEAH OKAY THAT WORKS WAY BETTER! So thanks Flame -3-</p><p>So... here we go. *cracks knuckles* Final group consists of: Radiance, Grimm, Hornet, Holly, Ember, Quirrel, Tiso, Mato, and Sheo. Or, as I put it in <a href="https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/688543635125567522/818260085838315570/unknown.png">Discord</a>... also, you probably should be a little wary of that Major Character Death tag, if you aren't already. I usually put it on as a precaution but in this case, might actually have to use it. Particularly if *glares at the next chapter* SOMEONE doesn't decide to be a self-sacrificial idiot.</p><p>Anyway, TV Tropes page because for once I'm not forgetting when I post: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/DoNotGoGentle">Do Not Go Gentle</a>. On a somewhat ironic note, I believe the original saying is something along the lines of "Do not go gentle into that good night." Which is... kind of hilarious actually, because the Lord of Shades is unfortunately anything but good.</p><p>I'll be quiet now. But we're in the home stretch!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. A Tragedy of Impulsiveness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The fastest way from the Dirtmouth to the Abyss—thanks to Cornifer, for making the maps, and to Hornet for completing the copies Soleil is referencing—would actually be by taking the Dirtmouth stag station, as there is </span>
  <em>
    <span>apparently</span>
  </em>
  <span> a station within the Ancient Basin. Unfortunately, no stag came no matter how many times the bell was rung. Given the Infection, Soleil can only hope whatever stags might be left are in hiding, somewhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking the stagways is out of the question, for while the tunnels </span>
  <em>
    <span>might</span>
  </em>
  <span> be free of Infected, there is no </span>
  <em>
    <span>guarantee</span>
  </em>
  <span> they are free of Infected, and the possible time saved is greatly outweighed by the potential of walking into a dead end or getting hopelessly lost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>next</span>
  </em>
  <span> fastest way from Dirtmouth to the Abyss would be by taking the tram from the Forgotten Crossroads to the Resting Grounds, taking the lift down to the City of Tears—it wasn’t always named that, though Soleil can’t recall the name and no one is correcting her—and going down the disused elevator shaft to Ancient Basin. That was complicated due to the fact that no one possessed a tram pass—something Hornet was rather vehemently annoyed by, muttering something along the lines of how she’d had it last in Deepnest and now she’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> find it again—and that the tramway doors were unfortunately built sturdily enough that bringing </span>
  <em>
    <span>them</span>
  </em>
  <span> down would bring the entire cavern down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Not going that way may be for the best. The Radiance does not wish to see what became of her moths, for if Markoth and Marmu were anything approaching a representative sample…)   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that route impossible, a significantly more direct but more dangerous and therefore slower route is taking the lift from the Forgotten Crossroads directly to the City of Tears and cutting a longer distance through the City of Tears to the Ancient Basin lift shaft.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it is the fastest route the group can take without splitting up—and given the onslaught of Infected from the moment the elevator opens up just outside the city storerooms, not splitting up is </span>
  <em>
    <span>clearly</span>
  </em>
  <span> the correct course of action. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The horde of husks attack—but the group is more than ready for them. Hornet’s needle sails out from the lift doors, neatly impaling three husks at once. Tiso throws his shield, sending it arcing around and soundly decapitating several more before it returns to his arm. Sheo swings his paintbrush with one massive stroke, thick blue globs of paint thrown </span>
  <em>
    <span>shockingly</span>
  </em>
  <span> accurately into more than a few faces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a moment’s concentration, Grimm opens his cloak, crafting his own fire-based projectiles—though given the way they snarl as they fly towards the remainder, calling them merely </span>
  <em>
    <span>projectiles</span>
  </em>
  <span> seems like an understatement and a gross one at that. His snarling fire creatures lunge for those few unaffected by Sheo’s paint and tear them to shreds before dissipating into thin air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somewhere behind him, Tiso lets out a low whistle, but doesn’t otherwise comment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Somehow, I doubt we possess the element of surprise any longer,” Grimm says dryly.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That</span>
  </em>
  <span> is assuming we ever did,” Hornet replies curtly. “And that they were not merely staging an ambush in the most opportune place.” She steps delicately over the body of a husk, without looking down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(The Radiance tries not to think of how every one of these husks was a living bug, once. Soleil fails miserably.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Regardless,” Radiance says, “we need to move fast. But carefully. We </span>
  <em>
    <span>must</span>
  </em>
  <span> reach the Abyss before we are overwhelmed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tiso cracks his knuckles. “Fat chance of that. Let’s go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so they do. The City of Tears manages to produce far more husks than could possibly come from close by, and yet the cramped living quarters seem to once again be giving the Wyrm the last laugh. Still, they press on, exhausting though it becomes before long, and in spite of more than a couple injuries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mato is favoring his left side, by the time they make it to the bottom of the other shaft, and Tiso is leaning a little heavily on Quirrel. Hornet, though Soleil strongly suspects she’d die before she admitted it, is limping. But nobody is dead, and Soleil will do everything in her power to keep it that way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ember takes the lead, once the lumafly lanterns left by the Wyrm give way to a deep, oppressive darkness. They light their ever-present torch with the scarlet fire of the Nightmare Heart, and then use it as a makeshift walking stick. Holly takes up the rear, for while the Ancient Basin is not the Abyss itself </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet,</span>
  </em>
  <span> it is close, and no one wants to take any chances now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Consequently, Ember is the first in the group to see a change in the shadows surrounding. They chirp a distinct noise of warning, right before their red light goes out. In a flash, Soleil increases her own, revealing Ember backing away slowly from…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. Oh dear. That’s a shade, a sibling. One of very many at the bottom of the world, though Soleil was never sure just how many children the Wyrm killed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But this shade—this one looks suspiciously like a much smaller Ember, with only slightly different horns. Many more shades emerge from the shadows of Ancient Basin. All have unique horns. None bear the horns of the little vessel called Ghost.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, I…”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ember steps back faster, holding up their hands in a placating gesture. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I didn’t—I—I’m sorry.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The shade Ember is looking quite fearfully at slowly, oh so slowly, shakes its head. It pulls a spectral nail from its back, though as the void takes the form of that nail it quite visibly sharpens. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other shades surrounding do the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Radiance focuses. There are too many to take on alone, and she isn’t convinced that shades can—even die. Which makes her feel much less guilty about what she’s about to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ember says tightly. The flame catches once again in their torch. Drawing a single claw around it, they coax the fire into their claws, and then, they hesitate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The leading shade charges, and is met with a fireball through where their head would be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other shades charge, and are vaporized just out of nail’s reach by a flash of light bright enough to leave all others present blinking dark spots out of their vision, and the two vessels slightly off-balance—thankfully no worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is in that sense of relief that Soleil nearly collapses. She stumbles, blinking hard, but does not falter entirely. Her balance returns before long, though it returns with a distinct headache that reminds her all too well of the cost of stunts like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Soleil,” Grimm begins warily, “are you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Soleil lies, because she has to be. She blinks harder. “We </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get down there before it is too late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grimm nods. “Ember, was that—”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ember says quietly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Like the Radiance said, it’s fine.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not fine. It never has been fine. And perhaps, she and Ember are the two that know that better than anyone else here. Perhaps they have always known better than anyone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Perhaps it will kill her, bringing down the Lord of Shades. In fact, given how little power she has now, this is certainly not unlikely. Should this fight end in her death, so long as the Lord of Shades and </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Lord of Shades comes with her—Soleil could die in peace.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(It has not escaped her notice that, given how the Lord of Shades ascended in the first place, she is already living on borrowed time. The least she can do is make the most of it.)</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is where my maps end,” Hornet says, looking out through the doorway once long-sealed, out past the carefully constructed platform never meant to hold more than a Wyrm, and perhaps a single small vessel. “I have not gone further.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ember signs something. Soleil catches what looks like the signs for </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>death</span>
  </em>
  <span> before Hornet retorts, “I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>well</span>
  </em>
  <span> aware of what the Void does to those not protected from it, thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have,” Grimm says. “The Lord of Shades is down there. As well as whatever is left of your sibling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mato says nothing at first, though he looks thoughtfully at Hornet, then at Ember and Holly. “Did… your sibling have a name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Hornet bows her head. “Though I called them Ghost, and they… seemed to like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ghost. Hm.” Mato says nothing more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is…” Quirrel peers over the edge and gulps. “Deep. I can’t discern the bottom. Is that where they will be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Grimm says, faintly. “There is a way down that is not falling. Rock outcroppings and such. Getting back up will be… difficult, but doable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Getting back up</span>
  </em>
  <span> was not something Soleil had actually considered. Not for herself, in any case. But the others will need to. Clearly climbing up was possible, given that at least three vessels had done it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still. She cannot shake the feeling that once she goes down there, she will never leave. This is not new. There was the same feeling on that day, long ago—and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> leave. Everyone did. Perhaps they will be so lucky now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Lord of Shades had lessened their onslaught, then, as they stood at the precipice of their domain. They are doing the same now—and Soleil knows there will be an ambush waiting for them at the bottom, that everything the Lord of Shades has will be thrown at them and block their way out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She knew that then, and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> it now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s… too quiet,” Sheo says. “They know we’re coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They are waiting for us.” Soleil takes a deep breath. “Let’s not keep them waiting, shall we? Holly? Ember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly nods firmly, looking past Soleil to their sibling. In an instant, something about the air has changed. It is less thick, less oppressive—and if Soleil squints, she can almost see a translucent dark bubble surrounding their group.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ember signs something too quick for Soleil to follow if she did know much in the way of sign. Grimm translates aloud: “Stay close to one of them, or—okay, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> being uncharacteristically morbid today—you’re all dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An even quicker response from Ember comes, and Grimm laughs humorlessly. “Yes, I suppose I am too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end, it is Ember who takes the lead, once again, into the Abyss. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mato</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all bugs follows them shortly, and Soleil after him. Attacking the group on the way down would be the smartest course of action, but it is not one the Lord of Shades takes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, the Abyss is quiet. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Too</span>
  </em>
  <span> quiet—and then Ember leaps down from the last outcropping onto what appears to be gravel. Except—they make a horrified noise, and recoil from the crunch their landing made, and the closer Soleil gets, the more certain she is of what the ‘ground’ really is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Masks. Thousands—millions, perhaps, of tiny cracked vessel masks, each and every one distinct in some small way. Ember’s shoulders shake with a silent sob. Then their head snaps up, as void rises from the sea of masks—heads—</span>
  <em>
    <span>skulls</span>
  </em>
  <span> to form hundreds upon hundreds of lifeless, listless shades.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(The Abyss was empty, once. Devoid of anything but well… </span>
  <em>
    <span>void,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and darkened stone. She’d guessed at… some of this, seeing Holly’s memories. But Soleil hadn’t known there were—this </span>
  <em>
    <span>many.</span>
  </em>
  <span> This many dead children, the Wyrm’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>own</span>
  </em>
  <span> children, cast away to die here—)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet there is no sign of the Lord of Shades—yet. One shade, with a gravity the others do not possess, floats forward. The Void itself whispers upon whispers, sound building and growing and twisting and echoing in the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>LEAVE THIS PLACE,</span>
  </em>
  <span> says the speaker—and while it must be that lone shade apart from the others, their voice echoes throughout the minds of all present, carried only by the Void itself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>WE DO NOT WISH TO HARM OUR OWN.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sorry, can’t do that,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> comes Ember’s projected answer. The Void—the Lord of Shades—the Void rumbles its displeasure through its children, and yet Ember squares their shoulders and continues, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I mean, I would certainly </span>
  </em>
  <span>like</span>
  <em>
    <span> to, but you’d have to stop the Infection first.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>CANNOT… WILL NOT… VOID WILL CONSUME. VOID MUST CONSUME. NOTHING LEFT… NO. LEAVE, OR WE WILL MAKE YOU.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They are both, undeniably, using some form of telepathy. But while Ember’s is clearly the version Soleil and Grimm use, the Void’s is… deeper, more primal. Soleil does not think it would work outside the Abyss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mato hops down beside Ember with a grunt—and a muffled curse once he realizes what he’s standing on. The speaker—and the shades surrounding—recoil with a wary hiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ghost,” Mato calls, faintly. “That’s you, isn’t it? My pupil?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It occurs to Soleil, quite suddenly, that the isolated shade has two curved, notched horns. That </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ghost… </span>
  <em>
    <span>or</span>
  </em>
  <span> something else taking on the closest approximation they have to their form. Soleil quickens her pace as Mato continues, and the shade that may be Ghost floats slightly closer. If she didn’t fear landing in the mass of shades, she’d jump and fly the rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“With all due respect, Nailmaster,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ember says flatly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“what are you doing.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Mato ignores them. He takes a step forward. “I… thought it might be you they were talking about. I never even knew your name, then, so I could never be sure. I didn’t know you could talk!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>NO… VOICE… CRY SUFFERING,</span>
  </em>
  <span> hisses the Void. ‘Ghost’ floats closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil descends faster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I… do you know what you’re doing, Ghost? You’re hurting others. You’re hurting </span>
  <em>
    <span>yourself,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I can tell. But you… you don’t have to fight any longer.” Mato sets down his nail, and spreads his arms wide. “You can stop this, all of this. I know you can. And I know you can hear me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>HEAR… YOU… MATO… FATHER…</span>
  </em>
  <span> The shade reaches out as if to touch him, to leap into Mato’s arms. And, for a second, Soleil almost believes that is what will happen. That Mato has singleclawedly saved Hallownest through the power of therapy and warm hugs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>NO… COST… </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It is quiet, for a few, tense moments. Then comes a strange whizzing sound, one that Soleil cannot quite place—until she can. Until she remembers where she has heard it before. It was from Mato himself, in fact. When he was charging his nail art.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...oh. Wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>no.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Mato, get </span>
  <em>
    <span>back!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Soleil shouts—a moment too late. A pure black nail of hardened void coalesces into Ghost’s hand and, with a great and terrible slash, it tears through his chest. Somehow, the anguished scream of Mato’s name from above is identifiable as Sheo.</span>
</p><p><span>But Ghost isn’t done.</span> <span>They too </span><em><span>scream,</span></em><span> and a mass of darkened soul and Void explodes out from where their mouth. It sends Mato—who is by </span><em><span>no means</span></em><span> a small bug—</span><em><span>flying.</span></em><span> Into the crowd of shades. Ghost—what Ghost has become—coalesces into their true form. White eyes, the only absence of dark in a thick mass of it.   </span></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>NO COST TOO GREAT,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Void roars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Soleil—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Radiance </span>
  <em>
    <span>dives.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>for no reason in particular, now seems like a GREAT time to detail what charms Ghost had on for the majority of the pantheons/when they finally defeated Absrad: Unbreakable Strength, Shaman Stone, Quick Slash, Grubsong, and <i>Nailmaster's Glory.</i></p><p>for no reason in particular, of course. no reason at all. so you all wanted to see Ghost? ........maybe you should have been a little more careful about you wished for.</p><p>
  <strike>I'm going to try my best to get the next chapter completed and posted tomorrow because while I will happily accept being called evil, I'm not that evil to leave you with Schrodinger's Nailmaster for more than like. a day.</strike>
</p><p>TV Tropes page is here: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ATragedyOfImpulsiveness">A Tragedy of Impulsiveness</a>.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Tonight, Someone Dies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Fighting the Lord of Shades had been difficult enough the </span>
  <em>
    <span>first</span>
  </em>
  <span> time, </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span> they had armies of murdered </span>
  <em>
    <span>children</span>
  </em>
  <span> to command. Yet another reason why the Radiance would like very much to stab the Wyrm several times over, after his still-living children of course.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right now, all she can do is curse the Wyrm under her breath and hope that the others can hold off the Lord of Shades </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> the hordes of too-small shadows long enough for this to work. She has to hope that Sheo and Ember in particular can keep them away from her </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> long enough. Her claws glow with light, dimmer than it should be in the dark of the Abyss—but light nonetheless. She focuses, draws on what little power she </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> still have—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mato coughs wetly, and shudders. Soleil cannot tell if his eyes are open behind his mask—but she can quite clearly hear him whisper, “What…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good to have you back,” Soleil says briskly. “Don’t move and try not to distract me, I cannot heal you </span>
  <em>
    <span>entirely</span>
  </em>
  <span> like this but I can at least ensure you will not bleed out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah.” His attention goes to the strips of paint-stained cloth binding his thorax together. “Is… what happened?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We aren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>winning,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Soleil does not dare to move, lest her spell falter, “but I would not be overly optimistic in saying we are not </span>
  <em>
    <span>losing,</span>
  </em>
  <span> either. Not yet. Your brother and my… and Holly are buying us enough time to get you back on your feet, at least, though I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> recommend any nail arts. Or any unnecessary movement at all, actually.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Strangely, Mato stiffens at the words </span>
  <em>
    <span>your brother.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Oro is…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes Soleil a moment to remember who Oro is, and quickly shake her head. “I’m sorry, he’s… no, he’s not here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...right. Of course. Sheo.” Mato shudders. “I’m… glad I still have him, at least. What about… the last thing I remember—Ghost—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If there was anything left of them, it died when they—when the Lord of Shades attacked you. I am sorry.” Soleil hesitates, and then adds, “Surviving </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> hit from a god is beyond many. Surviving </span>
  <em>
    <span>three…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will live.” Except Mato hesitates. Slightly fearfully, he asks, “...right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soleil nods. The glow fades for now, and she offers Mato a claw to stand. He does not hesitate before taking it, though he sways slightly unsteadily on his feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sheo! Ember!” Soleil calls. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a flash of black-streaked red and a hurried bow, Ember emerges from the darkness. The paintmaster follows, though not before sending some surprisingly lethal yellow paint flying from his brush behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mato!” Sheo breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank the… uh…” He looks, slightly embarrassedly, at Soleil. “...gods?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, you’re welcome,” Soleil says, “but now is absolutely not the time. Ember, can you…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ember nods. They step closer to everyone, grabbing Mato by the arm, and then in a flash of surprisingly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> disorienting red they’ve returned to the middle of the group, where… well, things aren’t going </span>
  <em>
    <span>well,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but they aren’t going </span>
  <em>
    <span>unwell</span>
  </em>
  <span> either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The others seem to be holding their own against the onslaught of shades, which makes sense—barring Ghost’s, none of them have attacks beyond attempting to bodyslam.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grimm and Holly are, alone, taking on the Lord of Shades themself. They (Grimm and Holly) are not losing. But they </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainly</span>
  </em>
  <span> are not winning, and the only reason they are not losing is due to the fact that the Lord of Shades is having trouble deciding what target to settle on—and, as Soleil watches, one massive hand snakes up from nowhere and snatches Grimm up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soleil leaps into action. Teleportation might drain her, but her blades never have, and so she calls them into being as she takes to the sky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...er, dark, dank air of the Abyss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever it is, she takes to it, and no sooner has she reached the Lord’s arm than she concentrates. That same whizzing fills her ears as she focuses, then—releases the nail art she knows, sideways.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cyclone Slash with all of her nails, as it turns out, is </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely</span>
  </em>
  <span> effective in severing vaguely eldritch beings’ arms within the span of a matter of seconds. The Lord of Shades wails as their now-severed arm dissipates into nothingness, dropping Grimm to the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Grimm says breathlessly as Soleil alights beside him. Holly, for their part, takes the opportunity to intensify their own assault on the Lord of Shades. “I take it you being back means…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mato’s fine,” Soleil says, then winces. “Well, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but alive and in no more danger of being otherwise than anyone else here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know what you mean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhm.” Soleil does not look fearfully up at the Lord of Shades, for to fear them would be to let them win already. But she does look up at them, grabbing intently for the vessel who—for </span>
  <em>
    <span>now—</span>
  </em>
  <span>is staying just out of their reach. “I take it </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> is not going well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not in the slightest. Every time we manage to bring them down, they pop back up from a mass of shades elsewhere.” Grimm winces as Holly takes a hit, drops to the ground, and quickly focuses. “We need to bring down every one of the shades </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Lord of Shades, and even then—I’m not sure if it will work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There had been no shades for the Lord of Shades to resurrect themself from last time. And yet, somehow, they had still come crawling back. There has to be some way to destroy them permanently, so that this never happens again, so that nothing can call them out of dormancy ever again. There has to be—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait.</span>
  </em>
  <span> That’s it. That’s it! The solution is so simple Soleil could cry at how </span>
  <em>
    <span>obvious</span>
  </em>
  <span> it is.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it won’t,” Soleil says as Holly’s focus explodes in a white globe of soul, sending the Lord of Shades recoiling. They are far more wary on their next approach, but they are also entirely focused on Holly now, and that isn’t good in the slightest. “Grimm, I need you to hit me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grimm, who had been preparing for another onslaught of fire, manages to trip over his own cloak. “What? I’m sorry, it sounded like you said—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, you heard me correctly. We can’t defeat the Lord of Shades permanently like this, only hold them back. That is where we went wrong the first time. They ascended in the dream realm. I can destroy them, permanently, in the dream realm. But, currently, I lack the power to get there without being forced there.” Soleil gives Grimm a look, and clarifies for his sake, “So: knock me out!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What—no! Soleil, I might </span>
  <em>
    <span>follow</span>
  </em>
  <span> your logic but that doesn’t mean I </span>
  <em>
    <span>agree</span>
  </em>
  <span> with it—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll do it,” says someone from behind them, and both gods turn to see Quirrel pulling his nail free of a shade. “I’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>happily</span>
  </em>
  <span> knock you out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I am quite certain you would,” the Radiance mutters. “Just… get it over with. This needs to be fast.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quirrel nods a little too quickly, then cups his claws around his mouth and calls, “Hey, Tiso! Shield!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tiso slashes through a shade, neatly bisecting it into melting blackstuff, before propping his shield up. In a movement almost too fast for the eye to follow, Quirrel is there. Tiso launches him into the air, where Quirrel curls up into a ball.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tiso had, apparently, been listening more closely than Soleil thought, for it is then </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> turn to leap up into the air. He spikes Quirrel down, directly at—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soleil’s face. Ah. Perhaps this was a mistake, but it isn’t one she has more than a moment to dwell on. Quirrel connects with a loud, painful </span>
  <em>
    <span>smack.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a brief instant, there is agony, and then there is nothing at all.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The dream realm is a beautiful place and a terrible place, and once it had been Soleil’s to control as she saw fit. Before that, it had been hers and Grimm’s, and before that it belonged to the god she can no longer remember. It is fractured, now, only accessible through some scant few minds. But, if Soleil is right, if she can reach the Lord of Shades within it—this might just work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(If she is wrong… she doesn’t want to think about that, right now.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She is not in the dream realm herself, however. Not yet—for entering it this way has its… cons. Most notably, that she is not attuned to any specific entry point, and therefore must find one and fast. She turns, and surveys her surroundings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. The good news is that Soleil is definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the mundane realm of reality any longer, though her surroundings do not happen to appear all that different from the regular Abyss. Except, as she looks, there is essence… nearly everywhere. Dream essence, shimmering through the air. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Her</span>
  </em>
  <span> essence, concentrated around the gods fighting. As she suspected, the Lord of Shades has derived a not insignificant amount of their power from feeding off her own, which means she can do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> about that like this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bad news is that she’s pretty sure her mortal form isn’t breathing, but any pillbug-to-the-face-induced injuries are a problem for Future Soleil. Right now, the Radiance has a job to do, and she is </span>
  <em>
    <span>going</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Light flares up behind her—easy to do, in this realm. Her eyes scan the Lord of Shades for the place where the essence billowing up is thickest. She finds it—between their eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And, for the second time today, the Radiance dives into what could very well be her death. The first time was not. Perhaps the second will not be, either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(She blocks out the anguished scream of her other name in the physical world, for she cannot afford to be distracted. Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>now.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Not by </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything.</span>
  </em>
  <span>)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The dream of the Lord of Shades is dark, which is perhaps the least surprising thing about it. It is dark—but not, strangely enough, too dark to see. Grey smoke billows up around a series of cold stone platforms. Soleil spreads her wings and flies, for she does not currently have proper feet to touch down with, and she won’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She soars, past platforms upon platforms, through the grey smog for what feels like forever. And yet there is still no sign of the Lord of Shades. Irritated and impatient, the Radiance hisses, “Show yourself!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And, quite suddenly, they do. More accurately, all the platforms disappear but one, directly in front of her. A lone vessel, with two curved horns, sits there with their back to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ghost. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except the Radiance remembers </span>
  <em>
    <span>full</span>
  </em>
  <span> well what being in close proximity to Ghost in their original fight had been like, and what the power of the Lord of Shades thrumming had felt like, and she—she </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows.</span>
  </em>
  <span> This is not Ghost. Not at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a flash gold and a swoosh of feathers, she teleports in front of them. The Lord of Shades looks up, impassively.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here we are,” says the Radiance. She gets nothing but an emotionless stare. “We are </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> overdue for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>proper</span>
  </em>
  <span> rematch, don’t you think?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stand, and draw the nail that is not theirs, extending it to the side in a clear gesture of challenge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I don’t think so.” That gets a hint of confusion. “We both know that is not your true form. You killed that child, just as you tried to kill me. You failed, with me. Perhaps intentionally, or not. Perhaps you thought I was no longer a threat, weakened and trapped in the body of one of the children you didn’t kill. You were wrong.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>WE SEE THAT NOW,</span>
  </em>
  <span> rumbles the Void.</span>
  <em>
    <span> WE WILL NOT MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE TWICE.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you will not,” the Radiance replies. “I will not give you the opportunity to. Now, will you continue to hide behind a child’s form? For that will not protect you from my wrath. It is time this kingdom, </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally,</span>
  </em>
  <span> was allowed to rest—and if </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> will not finish it, then </span>
  <em>
    <span>I will.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Void spills out from the vessel’s form as they replace their nail, taking the form that will forever haunt the Radiance, no matter what happens here. The Lord of Shades rises up far above her, great white eyes blinking down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>EVERYTHING WILL REST,</span>
  </em>
  <span> says the Lord of Shades. They summon a massive nail to one of their hands—evidently, they had absorbed the poor vessel’s skills into themself as well. AND </span>
  <em>
    <span>YOU WILL FALL FIRST.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nails are summoned to the rest of their hands, each one big enough to cleave the Radiance neatly in two—if the realm of dreams followed mundane rules. But it does not—and weakened or not, she is quite literally in her element.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She calls her own nails into being, just as the Lord of Shades </span>
  <em>
    <span>roars.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It is a loud, powerful sound, meant to rip away all attempts at resistance and replace them with despair. It almost works.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She cannot win this for herself, after all. But she </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> win it for others, and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> win it for others if it is the very last thing she does at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Radiance thinks of who she’s fighting for, and she roars back. This is for Hornet and Holly, Grimm and Ember. This is for Mato and Sheo and Tiso and Quirrel. This is for Bretta, and Elderbug, and Cornifer and Iselda, and Esmy and—slumbering somewhere, in her wild greenery—for Unn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But this is, most of all, for the vessel known only as Ghost. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>see? Mato is fine, ish, didn't y'all trust me-</p>
<p>anyway, uh. *quietly shoves the <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TonightSomeoneDies">TV Tropes</a> page at you and runs like hell*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Giving Up the Ghost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Something as large and powerful as the Lord of Shades really has no right to be this fast. And, if they were not a god, and if the realm of dreams didn’t follow its own rules—those rules, of course, being that the only limit is what you believe, and whether or not the local slightly tired goddess of dreams has the power to stop you—they would </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> be this fast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fortunately, the Radiance is faster. Not by much—and she doesn’t think she would be, outside of a dream. But teleportation, and being significantly smaller even in her most powerful form—</span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> has its perks indeed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It occurs to her, as she wings out of the way of one massive nail-swipe, that compared to the Lord of Shades, she is nearly as small as Ghost was compared to her. That is… ironic, though she cannot dwell on it now. Even taking her thoughts away from the duel at hand is enough for their blade to graze her wing, and it—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Burns.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It burns, the feathers searing as she cries out and drops like a stone. Thinking quickly if not entirely coherently, she tucks both wings in and turns her fall into a more controlled dive, then—teleports.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She is above the Lord of Shades now, and for a few moments, they look—confused. Their eyes snap around, looking for her—yet never, interestingly enough, up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>WHERE ARE YOU HIDING,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Void rumbles around them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Radiance calls her nails back into being around her, just in time for her to fall headlong past their face. Their eyes go wide, and she smiles. The halfway familiar whizzing of a nail art charging fills the air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right here,” she says, and releases it, spinning wildly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Lord of Shades roars, a more pained sound this time. The Radiance’s smile grows—in the instant, of course, before a nail from above slams her down to the platform again. Now her entire body burns with the hot-cold aftertouch of Void given Focus given Form.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She staggers up. Her wings feel heavy. She can’t lift off. But she can look up, and she does. The Lord of Shades is, by some uncanny stroke of luck, more concerned with their newly acquired wounds than with the Radiance. Void leaks out from where she struck them, pouring down into the nothingness below, faster and faster and—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slower.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh no. She can’t be seeing this. But she is—the Void pouring out is slowing, until the wound knits itself together where three of their hands were hovering over it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That wound could have killed a lesser bug, or a lesser god. That wound </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> have killed them. But the Lord of Shades looms above her, good as new.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the Radiance isn’t sure she could stand if she currently possessed feet to do so with. It occurs to her, as the Lord of Shades resummons their massive nails and points all four at her, that—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That she can’t win this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But she </span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span> to win this. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>cannot</span>
  </em>
  <span> let everyone who trusted in her to win this down. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>cannot</span>
  </em>
  <span> fail again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But in strength… there may be no victory. Not if they can instantly heal any wound she deals.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though… it </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> instant, was it? In that, there is hope. In that, there is hope, and with what little strength she still has, the Radiance heaves herself at least upright, and looks them in the eyes. The… middle pair of eyes, specifically, though that is the last thing she is thinking about right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There must be </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> way she can still win this. This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> realm, even if it is </span>
  <em>
    <span>their</span>
  </em>
  <span> dream. That counts for something. That counts for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She holds their gaze, and concentrates on the platform. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, laboriously, the stone beneath her gives way to the world’s tiniest and most circular hot spring. The water is shallow, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> shallow, but—enough. Enough that, in a flash of light, she can teleport back into the air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> realm. It does </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> belong to the Lord of Shades, and she will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> die here. Not to her ancient enemy, and not </span>
  <em>
    <span>now.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Not when they are still here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And—the power of a god depends most prominently on belief, but there are other things that help it. Other things, such as physical strength—and </span>
  <em>
    <span>willpower.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>She did not refuse to fade quietly into the night from a lack of </span>
  <em>
    <span>willpower,</span>
  </em>
  <span> that is for </span>
  <em>
    <span>certain.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Surprised?” She taunts, even as her entire being feels to be hanging by a snapping thread. “You may have taken much of my power. You may have taken my </span>
  <em>
    <span>Infection.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But you will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> take my dream realm, and you will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> take me alive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>THEN WE WILL TAKE YOU DEAD.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They swing—and the Radiance’s eyes flash gold. This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> realm to command. Her realm, and no one else’s. In a brilliant flash, the grey smoke surrounding gives way to the golden skies she is more familiar with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Lord of Shades recoils, as the light flashes through them. They seem smaller, somehow, in the light. And—wait—is that—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, the Radiance </span>
  <em>
    <span>must</span>
  </em>
  <span> be seeing things. But in case she isn’t—what </span>
  <em>
    <span>if</span>
  </em>
  <span> she isn’t? But what if she </span>
  <em>
    <span>is?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If nothing else, it might distract the Lord of Shades long enough for her to do something, anything. And so the Radiance calls, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“GHOST!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The nail comes down. She barely dodges it, and the way her wing stings as she does proves she was at least grazed. A hiss of pain escapes her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>THAT IS NOT MY NAME,</span>
  </em>
  <span> rumbles the Void.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> it isn’t, I should have known better than to—” The Radiance pauses, and repeats, warily, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“My</span>
  </em>
  <span> name?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>OUR NAME, YES,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Void says instead. </span>
  <em>
    <span>THAT IS WHAT WE SAID.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it is most certainly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> what the Radiance heard. Perhaps… </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe,</span>
  </em>
  <span> just </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ghost,” she says again, and ignores the way the Lord of Shades’s eyes flash dangerously. “I know not if you are in there at all. If you are—do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> what you are doing? You fought so hard to stop </span>
  <em>
    <span>me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And now, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> are doing the same thing—and you don’t even have a justification.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>OUR NAME IS NOT GHOST. WE ARE NOT IN POSSESSION OF A NAME.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> do not, Lord of Shades. I am not talking to you</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I am talking to </span>
  <em>
    <span>you,</span>
  </em>
  <span> to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ghost—</span>
  </em>
  <span>if you are in there, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> what an Infection does. You know, as I do now, why it must be stopped. Why the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lord of Shades</span>
  </em>
  <span> must be stopped, because they will </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> back down on their own. They didn’t before, and they won’t—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Again,</span>
  </em>
  <span> is what the Radiance wanted to say, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>now,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but what comes out is a pained </span>
  <em>
    <span>urrrk</span>
  </em>
  <span> as one massive hand grabs her and </span>
  <em>
    <span>squeezes.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Radiance promptly and quite summarily panics. In a flash of light, she drops to the platform again, wheezing. This realm is </span>
  <em>
    <span>hers.</span>
  </em>
  <span> This realm is </span>
  <em>
    <span>hers,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and she will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> be defeated. She raises her eyes, prepared to teleport again—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And watches, helpless, as the Lord of Shades plunges one of their massive nails directly into their chest. Void spills out, thick and gushing, and it does not slow. The Lord of Shades themself melts, giving way to a… a shade.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A shade with curved horns, who does not even look at the Radiance before curling up with a sob. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’M SORRY,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ghost sobs, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRY…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Radiance reaches out, then hesitates. The floor of this platform is rather comfortable, actually, perhaps she’ll stay right here. Still, she says, “He’ll live. The nailmaster. Mato.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That only makes them sob harder. </span>
  <em>
    <span>HAVE TO… HAVE TO END THIS. SHADELORD WILL COME BACK. NOT EASY TO KILL A GOD. YOU…</span>
  </em>
  <span> They peer at her for the first time, fearfully. </span>
  <em>
    <span>YOU KNOW.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do,” the Radiance agrees. “But you know the Lord of Shades better than I. Is there… truly no other way?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’M ALREADY DEAD,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ghost says miserably. </span>
  <em>
    <span>SO ARE YOU. YOU CAN COME BACK. I… I’M GOING TO TAKE THEM FAR AWAY. AND THEN I’M GOING TO MAKE SURE THEY CAN NEVER COME BACK AGAIN.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nods solemnly. This time, she does reach out to them. And, when they take her claw in their tiny hand, she ignores the way Void without shell burns. “You are far braver than I, little Ghost.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They choke back another sob. </span>
  <em>
    <span>TAKE CARE OF THEM. PLEASE. THEY DIDN’T—NONE OF THEM DESERVE THIS. ANY OF THIS.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.” Soleil blinks back her own tears. “Believe me, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You don’t deserve this either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I DO. THE—</span>
  </em>
  <span> They shudder, and draw back. </span>
  <em>
    <span>THEY’RE COMING BACK. I NEED TO GO. THE INFECTION… YOU’LL… YOU’LL STOP IT?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If it kills me too,” Soleil swears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ghost nods. </span>
  <em>
    <span>THANK YOU. I—GOODBYE. RADIANCE. IF YOU CAN—IF IT’S NOT TOO MUCH TROUBLE…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their shade splits into nothingness, and falls into the Void below. Still, she hears them whisper something inaudible, for the most part. Something that </span>
  <em>
    <span>might</span>
  </em>
  <span> have included the words </span>
  <em>
    <span>father</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>palace.</span>
  </em>
  <span> If they said what she thinks they said… that can be arranged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll do what I can,” she promises. “Goodbye, Ghost. May… may it be fast and painless.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She blinks harder. Her eyes open, then, not to the Dream Realm but to the blackest black of the Void. The Abyss. There are no shades, now. There is no Lord of Shades. There is nothing here, nothing save Void without focus or form, and millions upon millions of tiny broken masks.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>(Far away—though not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> far away—something, or perhaps someone, pulls themself out of a darkened pit. They are deaf to the sound of a ringing bell somewhere nearby, though not entirely. Right now, they are merely exhausted.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(They flop over onto their back, letting the tips of their horns touch the ground below them, and let out a tired sigh. Maybe they’ll just… rest, for a little bit. After all, they are </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> away from anyone they could hurt now. And they are </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired.</span>
  </em>
  <span>)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(And, at risk of jinxing their luck so far—they haven’t heard even a whisper from the Lord of Shades.)  </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You were </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> not breathing for a few minutes there,” Grimm informs her curtly, off to the side from the others. “We—I thought I’d lost you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soleil nods. Her head hurts. “I… thought I’d lost me too. What happened?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both pretend she isn’t leaning extremely heavily on Grimm at the moment as her brother answers, “The Lord of Shades kept fighting, but they seemed… distracted. Shortly before you woke up, they disappeared entirely. The shades followed.” He swipes a claw around to gesture at the Abyss, which seems much smaller now that she can see the walls. “As you can see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… certainly can.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Abyss is filled with nothing now, nothing but broken masks, and now that there is less of a danger the group has spread out somewhat. Sheo and Mato are conversing quietly near the center of the room. Hornet has knelt near the edge, holding the broken halves of a mask with her shoulders shaking, and her (living) siblings hold her in turn. And Quirrel and Tiso are…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wait. What </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> they doing?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, there’s someone alive over here!” Tiso calls, and for a few moments Soleil dares to hope. “Also, uh, not made of that black goopy… stuff.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...not Ghost. Soleil doesn’t know why she dared to hope at all, but she takes a step and then—nearly crumples.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no you </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Grimm says teasingly. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, and in a flash of red they’re suddenly much closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Void, Tiso,” Quirrel mutters halfway to himself. “It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Void,</span>
  </em>
  <span> love, we’ve been over this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Void,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tiso protests right back, “does not properly convey how </span>
  <em>
    <span>liquidy</span>
  </em>
  <span> it is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Liquidy isn’t a…” Quirrel sighs. Then he jumps, as he sees Soleil and Grimm. “Oh! Hello. Ah… please ask someone else to knock you out next time, I feel rather terrible about it and that is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> something I enjoy feeling terrible about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can do that,” Soleil says warily. “What’s this about someone alive? Presumably </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> someone who came down with us?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right here.” Tiso nudges the possibly-alive bug with his foot. “Dunno what’s up with them. Or </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> they aren’t dead if they’ve been down here all this time. I… swear they look a little familiar, though I couldn’t place where from.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so Soleil looks. The bug is not small, that much is clear even with Void dripping off their form. Their face is obscured by an… </span>
  <em>
    <span>odd</span>
  </em>
  <span> golden mask, weathered though it appears with age. However they ended up here in the first place, it may have been by falling face-first, for Soleil is pretty sure those are wings and not a cloak. Or… perhaps, wings used </span>
  <em>
    <span>as</span>
  </em>
  <span> a cloak? That, Soleil has not seen in a very long time. Not since her moths…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, this bug isn’t a moth. Not one of hers, in any case. They also don’t look particularly alive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure they aren’t…” Soleil gestures vaguely with her claw.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pretty sure. At least, they were still alive thirty seconds ago.” Tiso nudges them in the side, harder, with the same foot. “I mean, they might have d—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Urrrgh,” moans the golden-masked bug, though they do not otherwise move or react.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nevermind!” Tiso corrects himself cheerfully. “Unless they’re a zombie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soleil audibly winces. She is not, in fact, the only one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Too soon,” Quirrel says faintly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Way</span>
  </em>
  <span> too soon. Though that does remind me—now that the Lord of Shades is gone, the Infection… is it…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> be,” Soleil says, then pauses. No, whatever Ghost had done to the Lord of Shades—she </span>
  <em>
    <span>is,</span>
  </em>
  <span> once again, in control. Which means she will either have to risk destroying it outright, or… repurpose its power. “No. Not yet. But I know exactly what to do now, and compared to the Lord of Shades—it will be child’s play.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right. I don’t really want to know the details at this point, just… just get it done.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will,” she promises. “Right now… the sooner we leave the Abyss, the better. Just because the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lord of Shades</span>
  </em>
  <span> is gone does not mean the Abyss is now harmless. Far from it. And we need to figure out </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> we are going to get whoever they are out with us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The answer to that conundrum, like the answer to so many others, turns out to be quite simple: carefully applied teleportation.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*quietly re-adds ghost to the fic tags* oh come on didnt yall trust me? no? honestly, fair. we do still have (probably) two whole chapters for shit to get dicey all over again in-</p>
<p>tv tropes page: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/GivingUpTheGhost">giving up the ghost</a></p>
<p>also would you look at that godseeker is alive! or at least only mostly dead. you know what they say, after all- mostly dead <i>is</i> slightly alive.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Be Careful What You Wish For</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It is poetic, in a sense, how the Infection will finally end, and what its power will be used to accomplish instead. The actions of gods, after all, are not easily undone, as she fears Ghost found out the hard way—merely repurposed. So the Infection cannot be <em> destroyed, </em> exactly—not without risking her own life as well.</p><p>Selfish though it may be, Soleil <em> does </em> want to live. But if it comes down to her life, or stopping the Infection once and for all? She knows what she will choose, what she <em> must </em> choose. And it is <em> not </em> what she would have chosen before being freed.</p><p>If she is careful, it will not come to that.</p><p>If she is careful, it will not ever come to that.</p><p>If she is careful, it will not need to come to that.</p><p>And so she lingers by the door, taking a mental headcount of who has left the Abyss already and who has yet to do so. The injured were first, of course—Mato and the golden-masked bug, and, if rather reluctantly on her part, Soleil herself. Her head still hurts. Which is, honestly, quite understandable given that she quite recently took a speeding pillbug to the face, but that doesn’t seem like all of it, somehow.</p><p>(Though what else could it be?)</p><p>Grimm has ensured she remains with either him or Holly since she woke up again, not fully expecting to do so. Right now, she is with Holly, who keeps looking at her like they want to say something but can’t—and they quite literally cannot, as they left their chalkboard in Dirtmouth, and they have only been learning whatever sign language it is that both Hornet and Ember know for approximately… a week.</p><p>It has only been a <em> week </em> since the last time she was in the Abyss. A <em> week </em> since she still feared that Holly was gone forever, since she was trapped in their body with no way out.</p><p>It does <em> not </em> feel like it has been a week.</p><p>With a zip and a <em> thwip, </em> Hornet grapples over from where she had been talking with Tiso, landing neatly with three legs on the ground. She studies Soleil for a moment, perhaps gathering her thoughts before greeting her with a, “You’re still alive.”</p><p>Soleil blinks. That, she will admit she was <em> not </em> expecting. “To the best of my knowledge, yes.”</p><p>“Very well.” Hornet nods. “I would be… saddened, if you were not, after what you did in the Abyss.”</p><p>“You <em> don’t know </em> what I did in the Abyss,” Soleil starts, slightly defensively, before it occurs to her that not only is Hornet dipping back into her more formal speech habits, but this is also likely the closest she will get to Hornet saying she is glad she is not dead. “I… thank you.”</p><p>Hornet dips her head in another quick nod. “Do not get used to it, Radiance.”</p><p>And now it is Soleil’s turn to nod back. She will not make the mistake of getting used to Hornet’s kindness again—particularly when that kindness was never meant for her.</p><p>Holly looks between her and Hornet. Their gaze lingers on Hornet, and they cock their head in a questioning manner.</p><p>“I do not know what that means,” Hornet tells them, “but the answer is most likely no.”</p><p>They study her for a moment longer, then heave themself to their feet. At their full height, they tower above Hornet—and, in fact, are a little taller than Soleil. Therefore, it is a quite simple matter for them to reach out their arm and grab their sister around her midsection. It is a much less simple matter for them to <em> continue </em> holding her there.</p><p>“Hey! Holly, do <em> not. </em> Put me—put me <em> down,” </em> Hornet hisses, all pretense of formality gone and now quite furiously trying to wriggle out of their grasp.</p><p>Holly does not put their sister down. Instead, they march over to Soleil and attempt valiantly to wrap their arm around her too without relinquishing their sister. They are unsuccessful—the much smaller spider escapes with a triumphant “YES” only to be greeted by a mournful chirp from her sibling. </p><p>“What was <em> that </em> for?”</p><p>It does not escape Soleil’s notice that she has now positioned <em> the Radiance </em> between herself and her sibling, which is mildly hilarious. Holly only pouts, quite visibly.</p><p>“If I may…” Soleil receives a careless shrug from Hornet. “Are you trying to hug us both?”</p><p>Holly gives her a quite emphatic nod. Hornet groans. “Holly—please,” she protests weakly. “I… you know what? Fine. Come here. What <em> else </em> am I supposed to do with all these extra arms.”</p><p>In a flash of black, Holly is much closer. Hornet sighs, wraps one arm around her sibling, and—hesitating first, quite understandably—takes Soleil’s claw in another. “This means nothing.”</p><p>They all know that Holly can no longer talk. They can, however, make some sounds—and the <em> chrr </em> that comes from them sounds quite triumphant.</p><p>“Shut up,” Hornet says.</p><p>They kneel to her level just to headbutt her. Soleil gives Hornet’s claw a squeeze and lets go, returning her attention to the group at large. Mato and Sheo, Holly and Hornet and Tiso. As she watches, Quirrel, Grimm, and at last Ember clamber up onto the platform and exit the Abyss.</p><p>That… is everyone. It is with that in mind that Soleil makes her way to them, and past them, to the rock-hewn doorway that should have remained sealed. <em> Permanently. </em> Except… if it had been sealed permanently, there would have been no way down to the Lord of Shades, and therefore no way to stop them.</p><p>If they somehow do manage to come back again… perhaps, then, it may be good to allow the seal to be broken in a time of direst need. But <em> only </em> then, and not by just anyone—merely by the Radiance herself.</p><p>...and perhaps Grimm, given that these things are not easy to make completely specific to one bug. Her strong point in magic is in blasting things to smithereens, <em> not </em> in crafting seals. That had always been the Wyrm’s specialty—long before it was ever turned against <em> her. </em></p><p>The important thing is that she can ensure it withstands any onslaught, perhaps even reflects that onslaught back onto its attacker, unless that attacker is her or someone directly related to her. Or at least, she can in theory. In practice, she simply doesn’t have the power to pull off something like this in the waking world.</p><p>Except: she does. It just isn’t with her at the moment. It is in the eyes and blood of much of Hallownest, most too far gone to ever be saved—but some, if the Infection was removed now, could recover.</p><p>She can’t <em> remove </em> it, exactly. But she <em> can </em> repurpose it, and that is exactly what she is going to do. In theory, it should be simple.</p><p>In practice, she takes a deep breath to steady herself. Closes her eyes. Tells all assembled, “Stay back. If this goes wrong—or perhaps, if it goes <em> right— </em> you will <em> not </em> want to be caught in it.”</p><p>She waits, a little longer. Perhaps to allow time for those who have not already backed far away to back up further. Perhaps to further ready herself. Then, in the veil between waking and dreaming, she searches. Somewhere, there is a thin orange thread between her and the Infection—her Infection now, once again.</p><p>They are connected, and before long, she finds it. In her mind’s eye, she grasps that thread and—<em> pulls. </em> Yanks, even. For that power was hers once—and it <em> will be hers again. </em></p><p>In the caverns above, those Infected pause. A miner, working ceaselessly toward a goal she can no longer remember, holds her pickaxe and hesitates. A writer, rocking herself back and forth in the corner of a home that is not hers, struggles to find her words again. A warrior recently come out of retirement blinks away the fog in his eyes, remembering once again who he is and why he is here.</p><p>And near the bottom of the world—the Radiance opens her eyes, glowing orange in the half-light of an ancient basin. She reaches out to the doorway, willing the Infection to pursue a different end. A better end.</p><p>The Infection is hers, and it is hers to command as she wishes. From the sides of the tunnel, orange light coalesces towards the center. Across Hallownest, starting with those furthest away, the orange glow of Infection gives way not to the deepest dark of the Void, but… nothing. Those too far gone linger no longer. Those with still some semblance of life stumble as it leaves them, disoriented but nevertheless very much alive. A pickaxe clatters to the ground before it is picked up by steadier claws. Mosskin huddle together in the leafy green, whimpering among themselves.</p><p>The orange forms a convex dome, weak at first, then stronger and stronger. The Radiance concentrates, siphoning more and more of the Infection—her Infection—into it. And, at last, it is strong enough. At <em> last, </em> the seal is complete, and if she is lucky, she can forget about the Abyss for perhaps an age.</p><p>As a finishing touch, she places her own symbol on top: a golden circle, with sunbeams streaming out of it. And, with her work done, she lets the glow fade, and lets the thread of Infection go. The Infection was hers, and it was hers to command as she desired, and <em> now </em> it is gone. Now, it cannot hurt anyone else.</p><p>But something is wrong. Her headache only grows. And, with a start, she realizes—the Infection isn’t gone. Not completely. Tugging on that thread again gently, as she had before, yields nothing. This time, she <em> yanks— </em></p><p>—and the world falls out from under her. A flash of brilliant gold, and then—nothing. Nothing save whispers, and those too fade soon.  </p><p>
  <em> ...those who… turn against…  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>                  ...I’ll… join you… </em>
</p><p>
  <em>                              ...you dare… trespass… </em>
</p><p>            <em> ...here at… the edge… </em></p><p>
  <em>                                                            ...protect… her… </em>
</p><p>
  <em>                                                                        ...she… is coming…  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>                                                                                     ...remember you… </em>
</p><p>
  <em>                                                                                                 ...our lands… now… </em>
</p><p>
  <em>                                                                                                               ...my love…  </em>
</p><hr/><p>Wind ruffles her feathers, when the Radiance awakens. She pries open her eyes not to the half-dark of the ancient basin, but the half-light of the false surface above Hallownest. Yet—she is too high up, she thinks, to be in Dirtmouth. And it is too quiet.</p><p>Her head no longer hurts, though, which is a distinct positive about the situation she is now in. The distinct negatives, of course, would be that nearly everything <em> else </em> hurts, and that she has absolutely no idea where she is save that it is most likely somewhere above Hallownest, and she is—alone.</p><p>With no small amount of difficulty, Soleil manages to roll herself over, only to be greeted by a statue. For once, it <em> isn’t </em> a statue of the Wyrm—and if it was, she’d muster up the strength to blast it into oblivion if it killed her, now. But it isn’t.</p><p>Instead, her own, rock-hewn visage stares impassively down at her. She had… honestly forgotten about this statue, or at least supposed it to be destroyed at some point during her imprisonment. Clearly, so too had the Wyrm, or he’d have torn it down.</p><p>As it is, the elements have clearly taken their toll. One prong of her crown is broken nearly in half, the entire statue is cracked and worn, and it appears almost as if a good breeze could break it entirely. Yet, the wind is blowing now, and it hasn’t fallen yet.</p><p>Soleil too feels as if a good breeze could break her entirely, and yet she—slowly, laboriously—stands once more. The question of where she is, at least, has been answered—though that begs a bigger question of how and why she is <em> here. </em></p><p><em> Something </em> happened, she is certain of that. She no longer feels the constant tug of the Infection—though in truth, she had barely noticed it while it was still there. Now, she feels keenly its absence.</p><p><em> Something </em> went wrong. The Abyss was sealed with the Infection’s power, but—not <em> all </em> of the Infection’s power. Something happened with the rest.</p><p><em> What </em> happened with the rest? She feels, perhaps, more drained than she was <em> before </em> attempting to regain control of the Infection. But it’s gone. That little, she is quite certain of.</p><p>It’s <em> gone. </em> Hallownest is free, and she is quite certain that she completed the seal before… <em> something </em> happened. The plan was to redirect all of the infection’s power into that new seal. But it—didn’t all go into it. Not even close.</p><p><em> Something </em> happened with the rest of that power, something that exhausted the Infection and kept going into the little power she still had. The Radiance isn’t sure she wants to find out what it did—but she’ll have to, she supposes. She can’t linger on Hallownest’s Crown forever, that much is quite certain. </p><p>Such is life. One threat is survived, and on comes another. She’ll be happy if this one is half as life-threatening as the Lord of Shades.</p><p>But she can’t do anything about it if she doesn’t know what it is. So, lurching out into the open air—she starts to descend Crystal Peak. Now, she wishes she had examined Hornet’s map a bit more closely, or even purchased her own. As it is, she recalls one way out of Crystal Peak that does not involve flight over extremely sharp crystals.</p><p>(Could she likely fly off Hallownest’s Crown directly to Dirtmouth? Quite possibly. But at the moment and in her current state, she does not trust her strength to maintain long enough, so the long way around—complete with more than a few sharp drops she desperately flaps and falls through—it is.) </p><p>At last, at <em> long </em> last, she is free of the crystals and the song she’s long-forgotten. At last, she peers into a pit so deep she cannot see the bottom, steels herself, and—jumps. Gliding down is easier than outright flight. Still, though, it is not easy.</p><p>She falters about twelve feet up. The Resting Grounds rush up to meet her. She is quite lucky that she does not black out on impact. Or, perhaps, she is quite <em> unlucky </em> given that her head is spinning and everything aches <em> all over again. </em></p><p>Nothing seems broken. A distinct positive.</p><p>Naturally, she has barely thought this—never mind started to pull herself together again—when the tip of a nail tilts her head up. She stares, and blinks. She—must be hallucinating, somehow. Perhaps dreaming. Perhaps that last fall had knocked her out entirely. Or perhaps she is still in Ancient Basin, and she’ll wake up alone with a sealed Abyss.</p><p>“Who are <em> you </em> supposed to be,” asks the nail’s wielder. Upon not receiving an answer, he continues more firmly, “Answer me! Who <em> are </em> you?”</p><p>The Radiance should not be surprised, to not be recognized.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>well, SOMETHING sure happened. wonder what?</p><p>TV Tropes page: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/BeCarefulWhatYouWishFor">Be Careful What You Wish For</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Never Say Die</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Stunned—for more reasons than one—the Radiance stares up at a vaguely familiar visage. Or more accurately, at a horned helmet she’d known… not </span>
  <em>
    <span>well,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but known, which is more than could be said for most of those Infected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, she knows who this is. She also knows that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>should be dead.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Twice over, in fact, and her Infection was only able to help with the first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can see me,” Xero says, eyes visibly narrowed behind his helm. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Why</span>
  </em>
  <span> can you see me? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Who are you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, this is unmistakably Xero—and what appears to be a gravestone bearing his visage behind him. That is not a surprise—what </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> a surprise is the fact that he looks, to all appearances, to be very much alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He does not seem to have realized this fact. She should likely break this news gently.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can see you,” Soleil says, “because you are not dead. Do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> greet others with a nail to the throat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nailed it. Pun intended. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Xero stares at her for a long moment, then does in fact put away his nail, and allows her space to stand. Soleil does so, and only then does she realize that Xero is staring down at his empty claws. And his feet on the ground, not levitating above as so many ghosts do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is… impossible, for me to not be dead,” Xero says at last. “Whoever you are, you are one of the lucky few able to see lingering spirits.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yes, I am,” Soleil admits, “but I am well aware of what a spirit looks like. I can believe that you </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> a spirit, Xero, but you certainly are not one </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In an instant, both of his nails are out again, and both are pointed at her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“How</span>
  </em>
  <span> do you know my name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...ah. He hadn’t introduced himself, had he? This could be a problem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I am the reason the Wyrm was not content to merely end your life and be done with it,” Soleil says quietly, studying him. It is a little hard to see anything beyond eye movements, and even those aren’t easy. But his eyes do widen behind his helm, as he thinks about it. “Radiance. Or Soleil. I no longer have a preference.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Infection,” Xero says in turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil winces. “Not anymore. There is no longer a need, and… if I had known better, if I had known that—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Besides causing a plague, or…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Xero puts away his nails, only to cross his arms across his chest. “I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>this.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m dead. Now I’m not, which I do not believe for an instant, but let’s pretend I do. The Infection brings bugs back from the dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not like </span>
  <em>
    <span>this,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> she protests. “You saw what it did to most bugs. In your case, it merely allowed you to fight longer than you otherwise would have been able to—and if it brought you back after that, it wouldn’t have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Xero considers this, silently. Then, he walks over to his own gravestone and, pulling his claws into a fist, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>punches.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His fist bounces off the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>against</span>
  </em>
  <span> harmlessly—harmlessly to the gravestone, that is. Xero himself recoils sharply, holding his fist. He explodes into a rather colorful tirade regarding the quarry the stone had come from, how many different kinds of bugs had pissed on it before it was hewn, and the lackluster career aspirations of the carver.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil whistles. “What did it ever do to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Broke my fist,” Xero hisses. “Which I feel obligated to point out would not have happened if I had honestly thought it would </span>
  <em>
    <span>connect.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I feel obligated to point out in turn that I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> tell you that you were not dead,” Radiance replies, “and you did that anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up. What did you do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, as I have already established, did </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I told you—you know what happens when I try to resurrect the dead. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> it does not go well. And given that the Infection is at </span>
  <em>
    <span>last </span>
  </em>
  <span>over, I would prefer to </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> bring about another one now that it finally </span>
  <em>
    <span>is.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Infection is—” Xero blinks. “Nevermind. But if </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t do… whatever did this, then who did?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No idea. I merely know it was not me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone off to Soleil’s right clears their throat. “That… may not be </span>
  <em>
    <span>entirely</span>
  </em>
  <span> accurate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She and Xero both look, almost simultaneously. A moth stands there, on the cusp of the passage to the other half of the Resting Grounds. She leans rather heavily on a walking stick, though her eyes are bright. Her deep purple wings are carefully draped around her, as if she is quite cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is… one of </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> moths. She had thought them all dead, </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> dead at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Radiance,” the moth greets. “I remember you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The name comes to her quickly, far more rapidly than Markoth’s had. Soleil dips her head in respect. “And I you, Aspera. What… of what do you speak?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> was dead too.” The elderly moth nods to Xero with a slightly sad smile. “Perhaps you both had better come in for some tea.”</span>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aspera turns her back briefly to pour her own cup, then settles herself on a cushion almost directly across from Xero. The knight holds it, staring into its depths almost reverently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is it?” Aspera asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Xero stammers, and then he downs the entire cup in two quick gulps. To his credit, he doesn’t even flinch at the temperature. “Good. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Extremely</span>
  </em>
  <span> good, actually, I—wow. I have not had anything such as this since…” He trails off, looking past Aspera, and holds the cup tighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since before you died, I expect.” Aspera nods sympathetically. “I know not how long it has been since my death, but I know yours was </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil, for her part, sips delicately at her own cup, savoring the flavor while she can. It is a far cry from Mato’s hot cocoa, smelling distinctly of a certain white-petaled flower found in Unn’s domain, with a sweet taste quite unlike anything Soleil can recall having before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wonders if it would be rude to ask Aspera where she got her tea. Then part of what Aspera just said fully registers, and she swallows before asking, “My apologies—were you not killed when…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks down. Staring at the tea grounds in the bottom of her cup is a perfectly acceptable alternative to admitting what she failed to prevent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, dear Light,” Aspera says warmly, “I was not. I…” Her face falls, and she sighs. “When you were sealed away, those still alive forced themselves to forget about you, to try to appease the king. It was not enough. I was the last left that I knew of, when the Infection emerged once more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tea grounds are progressively getting more and more fascinating. “So it truly was good for nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. No, I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> say that. You tried, and… I outlived Hallownest, at least.” There is a weight on her shoulder, and Soleil looks up to see Aspera’s wing touching hers. “And, I suspect it may have indirectly been responsible for both our survivals now. Tell me, Radiance—you stopped the Infection, did you not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil sighs. “I hope I did. I… meant to repurpose its power, to seal away something that should have remained forgotten. The sealing was completed, that I know—but something went wrong. The Infection was too much. I woke atop Crystal Peak, and I… can only hope those with me were far enough to be protected from what went wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” Aspera reaches for her kettle. “Seconds, anyone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Xero nods vigorously. Soleil, after a moment’s hesitation, assents as well. It is only then, once Aspera has replaced the kettle and began working on her own cup once more, that the moth says quietly, “Tell me, Radiance—do you recall who I was before the Infection?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not well,” Soleil admits. “I am s—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was a seer.” To Xero’s moderately confused look, she elaborates, “One of our tribe who flew among dreams, to discern what has occurred, what is occurring now, and what has yet to occur.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. Please keep going, my knowledge of moth culture is fairly limited to what I learned from one…” Xero sighs. “Please keep going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aspera nods. “Upon my reawakening here, after I was quite certain that I would not—though I suppose we are quite lucky that the little one I implored to take some tea with them did not take </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of my tea—well, I have never been one to be satisfied with not knowing why. This is… I am still not </span>
  <em>
    <span>certain</span>
  </em>
  <span> what occurred, and I will admit it is without precedent. But…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But?” Soleil asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it </span>
  <em>
    <span>fits,</span>
  </em>
  <span> far better than any other theory I have made. Xero—I know not of the exact circumstances surrounding your death, only the aftermath. Am I correct in assuming that you lingered in this world, after?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” comes the slightly clipped response. “I would rather not discuss it further.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Radiance remembers, how he died. Both times. No, he most certainly would not. Neither would she, in his situation—and she does not like </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinking</span>
  </em>
  <span> about what happened with the Lord of Shades the first time in recent memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would not ask you to. That, however… confirms it.” Aspera returns her attention to Soleil, ruffling her feathers as she does. It occurs to Soleil, quite suddenly, that her ruff is a quite similar color to Markoth’s—though in fairness, the majority of moths she knew before and after had an off-white ruff. “You are looking at this the wrong way, dear Light. It is not what went </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span> with your spell—but what went more </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> than I suspect it ever could have if you had tried.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil blinks. “I’m afraid I don’t quite follow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When powerful magic is released—not </span>
  <em>
    <span>reused,</span>
  </em>
  <span> mind—it can sometimes have… interesting effects.” Aspera smiles, bemused. “I am surprised you were not aware of them yourself, but one such side effect is that of lingering spirits being returned to life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What,” says Xero after recovering from choking on his third cup of tea.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> says the Radiance. “That… well, I suppose I am aware of the phenomenon, but at </span>
  <em>
    <span>most</span>
  </em>
  <span> it has ever brought back one individual, quite recently dead, and very close to the magic used. I was not close to either of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aspera hums. “Then, I suppose the magic you were using was merely that much more powerful than anything used before. Do you know of any other lingering spirits between where you were and here, that may have been caught up in it as well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soleil’s instinct is to dismiss this as ridiculous. But then—she remembers. Another moth, one she had found quite by accident, who had come a very long way to die at the edge of what he knew as the world. Someone who </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainly</span>
  </em>
  <span> was not going anywhere, and—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She remembers further, what Xero had turned against the king over. A moth. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>murdered</span>
  </em>
  <span> moth, somewhere beyond the City at the kingdom’s edge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How many murdered moths could there be in that area? Could Markoth, possibly… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Markoth,” Soleil says aloud, carefully gauging Xero’s reaction. The knight’s eyes go quite wide, behind his helmet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it is Aspera whose cup falls from her grasp, shattering on the hard floor. “Markoth? You—he hadn’t moved on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not as of a few months ago, and given how long it had clearly been prior to that…” Soleil looks sharply to Aspera. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You</span>
  </em>
  <span> know him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aspera nods. She opens her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Xero blurting, “He won’t have moved on. He was… he was waiting for me. How do you know him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose I should be pleased that you do not immediately assume we knew each other merely because we are both moths,” Aspera decides. She raises a claw to her eyes and wipes away the beginning of a tear. “Though that assumption would not have been inaccurate. He was… he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> my son. And if there is a chance he is still alive? That he is… alive again…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Xero stands, and sets down his once again empty cup on the cushion he had been sitting on. “I hope you don’t mind us not staying to help with dishes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aspera audibly snorts. “Dishes can be cleaned up later. If… you know where he would be…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.” Xero looks sideways at the Radiance, then bows his head. “Attempting to avenge him was how… I died.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But neither of you are dead now,” Soleil reminds him. “And with any luck—he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> between here and the Ancient Basin. He will be there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hopes, for the sake of both Markoth’s mother and his boyfriend, that he is. But if both of them returned… then, perhaps, she can dare to hope further.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I was persuaded to do a double update today instead of a double update tomorrow (since I'm gonna be busy on Sunday.) aanyway, enjoy your mass character undeath, the fic is actually done in my drafts which is frankly insane. wow.</p><p>if you're wondering how Xero and Soleil (and Xero and Markoth) know each other, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29490207/chapters/72443172">this fic</a> may shed some light on the matter. pun very much intended. &lt;3</p><p>in case it wasn't obvious from the reading: Seer's name is Aspera. and we're going with the Markoth-is-Seer's-son headcanon because it is deliciously angsty but also.......... &gt;:D listen, listen, I'm soft. and a lot of characters in HK deserved much better. so they're getting much better because I do what I want.</p><p>has this part been planned from (close to) the beginning? perhaps. will you be seeing some of the other effects of what Soleil did in other fics in this series? perhaps. but we do still have one chapter left after this one. see y'all tomorrow.</p><p>TV Tropes page: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/NeverSayDie">Never Say Die</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. What You Are in the Dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It has been an <em> extremely long </em> several months since the Radiance was last here. She was nearly murdered, she nearly murdered on a couple of separate occasions, Holly came back, Hornet came back, the Infection got worse, and that’s really just what she can think of off the top of her head, not at all in any sort of order.</p>
<p>So, really, Soleil should be forgiven for forgetting that there was one of the Wyrm’s horribly inconvenient Void gates blocking the path into Markoth’s little cave. She has been through a <em> lot </em> lately. Though, to be fair, so has everyone.</p>
<p>This knowledge does nothing to keep her from feeling guilty at the heartbroken little gasp Aspera makes, at seeing the way ahead blocked.</p>
<p>“What is <em> that,” </em> Xero all but yelps.</p>
<p>“A Void gate,” Soleil says, recalling the knowledge coming to her when she’d been here in Holly’s body, so long ago. In retrospect, that should have been a clue they weren’t entirely gone. “Nothing can pass through save beings of Void. The Wyrm erected them in a few places where he wished to hide his crimes, or keep something contained.”</p>
<p>The one trapping his ex-wife in her gardens comes to mind. Soleil wonders if she has noticed that the Infection is gone. Soleil wonders if she <em> cares, </em> before thinking better of it. Of course she doesn’t. She never has.</p>
<p>“Hiding his…” Xero looks remarkably like he wants to punch the Void gate. “That <em> bastard.” </em></p>
<p>“I would advise against tampering with it in the fashion you intend,” Soleil says. “Unless you <em> want </em> to lose your arm.”</p>
<p>Xero holds his bandaged fist close to his chest, and does not further comment.</p>
<p>“Fortunately for us,” she continues, “they were <em> not </em> built with teleportation in mind. I will be right back.”</p>
<p>She closes her eyes, and concentrates. Normally, she would not need to be <em> extremely </em> precise, but given that the absolute last place she wants to end up is <em>inside</em> the Void gate… perhaps she is being a bit more precise than usual. Or she would be, if she could just <em> focus. </em></p>
<p>But there is a nagging voice of doubt at the back of her mind. What if this was a fluke? (The concept, not the bug.) What if Aspera and Xero were merely a stroke of luck, and Markoth is…</p>
<p>Well. If he is still dead, the least Soleil can do is properly lay him to rest. The worst that could happen is that she was wrong, and she spoke far too soon—which she did—and she’ll just be breaking the trust of others all over again.  </p>
<p>In a focused flash of light, she is on the other side. The very much alive moth leaning against the cavern wall next to the Void gate, with a Dreamshield on his arm and a moderately alarmed look in his eyes at her appearance, proves that her fears were very unfounded. Thank... well, her, apparently.</p>
<p>“How did you—who are you—what are you <em> doing </em> here,” Markoth stammers numbly. He clears his throat. “My apologies. I have just… been stuck here for a long time, and could you possibly, <em> maybe </em> do that teleporting again?”</p>
<p>The Radiance smiles. “You are in luck. That is, as it turns out, <em> exactly </em> why I am here.”</p>
<p>Markoth stares at her, then steps away from the wall and slings his shield across his back. “Do I know you, because you seem vaguely familiar.”</p>
<p>“We’ve met,” she says, extending a claw. “Recently, at that.”</p>
<p>He looks at her, a little more closely—and it clicks. He takes her claw. “Radiance. Do you know how I am… well. You know.”</p>
<p>“It’s… complicated,” she settles for. “Let us get you on the right side of this Void gate before we deal with any of <em> that, </em> shall we?” </p>
<p>Of course, Xero is waiting for him on the right side of the Void gate, and there is no helm preventing Soleil from seeing the way Markoth’s eyes go wide then well up with tears at the sight of him.</p>
<p>“Xero,” Markoth breathes. “You… you came back.”</p>
<p>There is an odd sort of sound that comes from Xero then, and it takes the time for Xero to cross over and pull Markoth into an embrace for Soleil to realize it is, in fact, a sniffle.</p>
<p>“I promised, didn’t I?” Xero already sounds choked up. “Sorry I’m late.”</p>
<p>They pull apart, just far enough to gently touch their foreheads (or in Xero’s case, his helm) together. Markoth’s shoulders are already shaking as he says, softly, “Don’t be.”</p>
<p>Aspera looks at Soleil briefly, as if to ask permission. Soleil only shrugs. This seems to be good enough for Aspera, who clears her throat rather loudly and then says, “Good to see you alive and well, Markoth. When were you going to tell me I had a son-in-law?”</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Why, why, <em> why </em> the ever-glowing <em> fuck </em> did the Wyrm have to have so many <em> buzzsaws? </em> And spikes, for that matter, though the spikes, she’d expected from him. He certainly <em> did </em> enjoy making it rather impossible for anyone to try anything on a single building in his city.</p>
<p>But this? This is excessive.</p>
<p>The Radiance supposes it is more likely than not meant to keep her out in his idea of a worst case scenario, in which case it isn’t excessive at <em> all </em> given that it isn’t working.</p>
<p>That does not, however, mean she <em> enjoys </em> systematically dismantling every single buzzsaw and set of moving spikes she comes across in order to get past them. Quite the opposite. But, at last—the lift she’d stepped on comes to a stop at a landing not full of buzzsaws.</p>
<p>Just…</p>
<p>Kingsmoulds, he had called them. <em> Dead </em> kingsmoulds, as best as she can tell, slumped over with the Void pooled around them. When she summons a nail to poke at one such pool, cautiously, it proves to be not liquid at all but dry and flaky. Brittle.</p>
<p>This kingsmould—and perhaps the others up ahead—has been dead for some time. Whatever happened to them was not recent—and it appears almost as if they had died without fighting, merely… laid down and let the end come.</p>
<p>Radiance shudders, and quickens her pace. The throne room is up ahead. One way or another, she <em> will </em> see what became of the Wyrm. One way or another, she <em> will </em> end this, once and for all.</p>
<p>Except she turns the corner—and stares.</p>
<p>“What the fuck,” the Radiance says aloud—for there is nothing. There is nothing there save an empty throne, and a thick layer of dust on the ground. Except… hmm.</p>
<p>Cautiously, and without unsummoning at least one nail, she walks up to it. The throne itself is—well, less dusty. So is an area on the floor that could have, feasibly, had a body laying there.</p>
<p>“Hornet told me, just before I came here, that Ghost found you dead. <em> Here.” </em> She eyes the throne suspiciously. “The fact that your corpse seems to have disappeared into thin air in the meantime does <em> not </em> do anything remotely positive for my peace of mind.”</p>
<p>She cannot feel him nearby, which is either a good sign or an <em> extremely </em> bad sign. Still, she keeps talking. “There are two resonable conclusions to this. One, that you <em> are </em> in fact very dead—good <em> riddance </em> —and you simply faded away from this dream, too. The other is that you are very much <em> alive. </em> I don’t suppose you could come out now and fight me like a civilized god?”</p>
<p>Radiance pauses after this, listening. There is nothing audible, nothing except the faint yet very distinct <em> whirr </em> of buzzsaws, somewhere far below. Damn. She thought she got all of them.</p>
<p>“Taking that as either a <em> no </em> or an <em> I’m dead, obviously I cannot fight you,” </em> she says at last. “A shame. I would have liked to know how <em> you </em> justified your crimes. <em> No cost too great, </em> wasn’t it? Certainly one way to admit there was no atrocity you were unwilling to commit.”</p>
<p>Her attempts at goading him seem to be failing. Or, possibly, he really <em> isn’t </em> here and really <em> is </em> dead, but Soleil does not trust that for an instant. </p>
<p>Time for a slightly different approach.</p>
<p>“Albasten,” she tells the empty throne, “let me tell you <em> exactly </em> how well ‘your’ kingdom is doing without you. Now, at least—I will admit the Infection was a mistake, only because what I <em> should </em> have done was march in here and stab you myself after the first moth you murdered. However, it was a mistake that did <em> some </em> good. Perhaps you remember the knight you erased? Xero? He is alive. So is every other spirit that lingered after death in Hallownest—many of whose deaths you were directly responsible for. I’d like to see <em> you </em> do the same.”</p>
<p>The Radiance decides not to admit that <em> she </em> isn’t even entirely sure how she did it, or what <em> it </em> even was, <em> or </em> why the spell itself had resulted in her and others standing too close to the new seal being blasted across Hallownest. Now is not the time for modesty.</p>
<p>“And that is only the <em> beginning,” </em> she continues, with perhaps a touch of smugness. “The child you forced into emptiness, and the daughter you only cared about when it suited you, are doing a better job of pulling the remnants of our war back into something functional than you ever could have. Hallownest endures, in spite of either of us—and <em> especially </em> in spite of <em> you. </em></p>
<p>“Unn is doing <em> much </em> better, now that you no longer can force her into hibernation. Cyclamen, I cannot honestly bring myself to care what she does, so long as she is not hurting anyone else I care about. And Grimm…” She smiles. “Despite your best efforts, he <em> did </em> choose me over you, where it mattered. He and I, in fact, recently found the answer to a question that <em> long </em> predated either of us knowing you.”</p>
<p><em> Our name is Godseeker, </em> she had introduced herself to a moderately baffled Quirrel. <em> We seek the Gods, true Gods. Doth thee also— </em></p>
<p>And then she had taken one look at Soleil peeking around the doorway, and froze.</p>
<p>“Perhaps Grimm told you of this, before,” Radiance elaborates. “My moths were not the first moths, nor our original kin. We were both mortal, once—and ascended to save our people. Yet when we returned home, they had disappeared without a trace. I had long since given up on ever finding them—yet they, at last, have found <em> us.” </em></p>
<p>Godseeker had elaborated, once she got over her shock. Their entire tribe had, through the use of her mask—though it was not yet hers then—transferred themselves into one mind. And so the newly dubbed Godseeker had set off in search of new gods—but also those two long-lost moths who left so long ago: Soleil and her little brother Grimm.</p>
<p>And so the final piece of the metaphorical puzzle fell into place. The Godseekers were responsible for that dream arena, and for the ascension of the Lord of Shades. They were also responsible, if indirectly, for an end to the Infection without the Radiance—or <em> Holly— </em>having to die.</p>
<p>“In the end,” the Radiance says at last, “it is quite simple: you failed. Despite your best efforts, Hallownest is healing, and unlike you, <em> I </em> am still here. Not dead, not sealed away inside Holly or any other birth-cursed child of yours, and most importantly, <em> not forgotten. </em> I would not be surprised, if you are listening but biding your time to return when I least expect it. Would you like to know what I have decided?”</p>
<p>She smiles. “I <em> don’t care. </em> If you are dead, then that is the end of it. If you are not… why should I waste time worrying about a hypothetical? Should you return, then rest assured—I will quite happily destroy you, and I will not have any shortage of help. Should you not… there is no longer a problem. And, as much as I would love to continue monologuing to an empty throne, I <em> did </em> promise Holly I would be back in Dirtmouth for game night, and <em> I </em> keep my promises.”</p>
<p>She pauses, then, and stares at the throne a little longer. As if, if she keeps staring at it, it will reveal its secrets, or Albasten himself will be sitting there, dead or alive. But there is nothing.</p>
<p>There is nothing, save a sudden slow clap from behind her. The Radiance turns, already calling her blades into being—then sees who it is, and relaxes.</p>
<p>“Just me, dear sister,” Grimm says warmly. “I may have found where he is hiding, if he <em> is </em> still alive.”</p>
<p>“Oh?” The implications of that hits her, and Soleil sighs. “More buzzsaws?”</p>
<p>“More buzzsaws,” Grimm confirms. “As well as a reasonably concerning amount of spikes, thorns, and <em> whatever </em> those flying Void… <em> things </em> are supposed to be. It’s over this way.”</p>
<p>When they get there, squeezing through a freshly-burned hole in the wall, Soleil takes one look at the plaque reading <em> PATH OF PAIN, </em> another look at what looks nearly impossible for <em> anyone </em> to squeeze through, and actually impossible for anything bigger than the average vessel, and says, “Absolutely the fuck not.”</p>
<p>Grimm snorts, bemused. “I thought that might be your reaction. Fancy going to see if he’s—”</p>
<p>“If he’s in <em> there,” </em> Soleil decides, “he can <em> rot </em> in there. I can’t imagine it’s particularly easy to get <em> out </em> of there, even if you can teleport.”</p>
<p>“I made an attempt at the first room. Several, to tell the truth. In my final one, I made it <em> just </em> far enough to tell that there was more than just one, and then had to rather quickly remove myself from a rather rude patch of thorns.” Grimm rubs his arm gingerly. “If Albasten is in <em> there, </em> he is <em> not </em> getting out quickly. Though we can certainly take some extra precautions.”</p>
<p>Soleil nods. “I couldn’t agree more.”</p>
<p>It doesn’t take much prodding, not when this is <em> her realm, </em> to make some of those thorns grow over the entrance behind her. At last, she looks at Grimm, and decides, “I’ve had enough of this. Have you?”</p>
<p>“Quite enough as well, thank you.” He offers her a claw with a bow. “Shall we go home? I know you don’t want to keep the kids waiting.”</p>
<p>“We shall,” she agrees, and takes it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TV Tropes page: <a href="https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/WhatYouAreInTheDark">What You Are in the Dark</a></p>
<p>so...... here we are. I'm kind of shocked we're actually <i>here.</i> I'm more shocked that so many of you liked this really, <i>extremely</i> self-indulgent fic enough to stick with me till the end. but here we are. </p>
<p>I think I'll be taking a little break from Hollow Knight fic, partially to organize my thoughts a bit better re: future fics in this series, partially because this was supposed to be a thing on the backburner while I worked on an entirely different fic with someone else, and then this became the Big Thing. oops. getting back to that now, and honestly kind of excited to finally do so.</p>
<p>also <i>very</i> excited for what's to come in this series. I've got a few ideas, none of which will be quite this long- but next up is either going to be Ghost returning to Hallownest, or a fic involving the Dreamers (mostly Monomon tbh), or a fic involving Ogrim going on a road trip to find his totally not dead friends. stay tuned. maybe bookmark the series if you want to be notified? still not entirely sure how that works lol but like.... I am <i>absolutely</i> not done with Hollow Knight as a whole, that's for sure. so stay tuned. &lt;3</p>
<p>once again, thank you SO much for reading (and, for those of you in the comments section, for commenting!) this was a ride, and a rather fun one at that. here's to the next adventure!</p>
<p>(I've got a tumblr at <a href="https://ofstormsandfire.tumblr.com">@ofstormsandfire</a> if you all want to yell at me there about this fic, or other fics. I mostly just reblog things and chat with friends but maybe I should try to do more on there. <strike>counterpoint: the fact that this is tumblr. but hey, come say hi if you want :D</strike>)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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